


The Pack Survives

by megsd89



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Battle Scenes, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Political Alliances, R Plus L Equals J
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:01:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 25
Words: 195,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27510451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megsd89/pseuds/megsd89
Summary: Jon Snow gains new allies as he moves to take back Winterfell. A mysterious presence awakens within him. He struggles with his resurrection and the coming war with the Night King. Ghosts thought long dead return home. He dreams of fire, dragons, and violet eyes.Daenerys Targaryen gathers her forces and prepares to retake the Iron Throne while building alliances on both sides of the Narrow Sea. She tries to balance the fire of the dragon and her need to protect those less fortunate. Visions plague her of snow, ice, and a blue rose.Something draws them both closer together as war looms on two fronts.
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Grey Worm/Missandei, Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 905
Kudos: 608





	1. Jon

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I have been reading Jon and Dany fanfics for years on here, and I'm so in awe of all of the talent in this community! After quietly reading from the sidelines, I've finally been roped into starting one of my own. So I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think! Just so you're aware I'm thinking this will end up somewhere in the 20-30 chapters range. I'm not quite sure yet.
> 
> PS Happy Veterans Day! Thank you so much for your service!

Jon was angry. There was no other word for it. He was angry at Ramsay Bolton, this sadistic and cruel monster who had hurt his sister, taken his home, and captured his brother. He was angry at Melisandre for bringing him back to this life that is nothing but disappointment and despair. He was angry with Davos for insisting that he continue to fight. He was angry at Thorne, Yarwyck, Marsh, and Olly. Angry that they betrayed him, and angry that they were so nearsighted that they couldn’t see why the Free Folk needed to be saved. It shocked him how angry he was at them despite taking their own lives from them. He was angry at Ygritte and the way she left him. He was angry at Sam for making him stay in the Night’s Watch that fateful night so long ago when all he wanted was to desperately run to his brother. He was also angry at his father, for allowing him to go to the Night’s Watch in the first place. Ned had to have known what the ancient order had become, a group of criminals and undisciplined boys that were the opposite of everything he was raised to be. What explanation could there be for Ned Stark to have allowed his honorable and proud son to join this life? What other explanation than he was sent off to waste away? At least now Jon knew there was some purpose to his time at the Wall, even if it was just to warn the world of what lays beyond it, waiting and watching. His anger seemed to be all consuming, ever-growing since he rose from death. A gnawing presence he had never felt before was taking root in his heart and mind, growling at him from deep within. It scared him, but also served to make him angrier.

At this precise moment though, nothing was pissing him off more than his belligerent sister. Sansa has had one goal since reuniting with him at Castle Black, and that was to regain everything they lost. For him, it seems to be an impossibility. They don’t have the men, they don’t have the resources, and they don’t have allies. Apparently in Sansa’s world, a bastard son of a former Warden and his trueborn sister married to an enemy twice over, should be given everything they need to retake Winterfell. They are Starks after all. Except Jon’s not a Stark. It’s all he ever heard growing up in the shadow of Robb, the handsome young King of the North. It’s all he saw in the scornful glare of Catelyn and a younger version of the redhead he was currently arguing with. Despite her insistence that the name of their father would be enough, here they are nearing the battle with half the men they need.

They spent the better part of several months traipsing around the North going from House to House, sounding more like beggars every day. Standing in front of Lyanna Mormont explaining why they deserved her allegiance and her men was a humbling experience for both Jon and Sansa. Davos had bridged the gap and found the young Lady’s weakness, her sense of family. Only Jon’s connection to Jeor and the threat of the Night King was enough to sway her. Jon found he couldn’t be disappointed though, at least she believed them about the threat north of the Wall. The letters to Houses Mazin and Hornwood were answered quickly and they stood with them without question. For that, Jon would always feel a sense of great debt to the two small houses. House Manderly sent back a scathing note about Robb’s ineptitude and the sacrifices their house had already made for the name Stark. They would be staying in White Harbor to prepare for the coming winter. Cerwyn was a bit more timid in his reply, but it was negative all the same. It was obvious that the Lord was terrified of Ramsay, his father had been skinned alive and left hanging for days as a warning to those who would dare to speak against House Bolton. His crime had been telling Ramsay there was no more food to send to Winterfell. Ramsay rode to Cerwyn the next day and the body of the elder Lord became a signpost between the two keeps. Then there was Lord Glover. Jon had to learn from a very young age to bite his tongue and never was that skill more used than standing in Deepwood Motte before the fat, angry man. Like most Northmen, Glover had a healthy hate of wildlings and looked at Jon as if he was betraying the very people he was trying to protect. The same look of hate and belligerence that was on Alliser Thorne’s face as Jon allowed the Free Folk through the Wall. The logic of Lord Glover was sound, Jon understood why he was reluctant to side with them, and honestly if he were in the same position his answer might have been the same. But it was the way the sniveling man said, “House Stark is dead.” that really woke the growling presence in Jon’s head. He might understand the man’s reluctance, but he’d never forget it. Lord Glover had left wolves alive, and as much as he might think House Stark was dead, the pack isn’t.

“For the last time, we need more men!” Sansa practically screamed at him.

“We don’t have more men and we’re running out of time. Winter is coming and soon there will be no way to survive off the land, we need to act now!” Davos responded strongly back to her.

“There has to be another way,” Jon said. “Attacking full on at Winterfell with the numbers we have versus theirs will result in a massacre.” Jon took another swig of ale and held his head; this was getting exhausting. Both of them had valid points, but he’d prefer not to see all of his men die.

“The Bolton forces are well equipped and well armored, if we attack straight on with the wildlings they’ll overrun us,” Jon reasoned with them both.

The Free Folk had followed him south to escape the great enemy, this fight to them must seem foolish and yet they were willing to put their lives on the field for him. It humbled him and confused him. A part of Jon recognized that he was a good leader, but the majority of his conscience refused to accept it. Why should anyone follow a bastard? What was he in the grand scheme of the wars to come? What was his purpose now that he had been brought back? For a while it seemed like there wasn’t one, but he couldn’t deny that he was one of the few who could fight the Others, one of the few who even believed in them. The truth was he hated being responsible for others, hated the pressure and the guilt that came with it. It was a role he wasn’t born to and one he wouldn’t willingly choose. But Davos seemed determined that no one else could do it, and Sansa looked at him with her big blue eyes and begged him to save their brother, so what else could he do? Another reason to be angry, the growling presence in him seemed to spur on his sour mood.

“The Free Folk are raiders and reavers, they are feared by most Northmen and are seen as cannibals and barbarians. Nothing scares northern villagers more than free folk, and maybe we should use it to our advantage.” Davos suggested.

Everyone in the tent looked to Davos, waiting for him to finish his thought, it was Sansa who finally broke the silence with an annoyed huff and eyeroll “Well, Davos, how exactly do we use them to our advantage?”

“Ramsay’s main allies are Umber and Karstark, they brought most of their fighting men with them and who is left at their strongholds? Women and children?” Davos waved his hands urging the siblings to see where he was going with this. Jon and Sansa stared back with confusion.

“Are you saying that you want to use the free folk to raid and pillage Last Hearth and Karhold?” Sansa asked incredulously. “We barely have gotten any support because of our allegiance with them and you want to sic them on innocent women and children?”

Tormund growled from the corner, standing up to his full height with his hand on his belt. “We don’t kill women and children, we’re not Thenns. But I do like the idea of scaring the shite out of these cunts. I’d need to talk to some a’ the others, but we could do it.”

“No. We want Umber and Karstark to _think_ that we are sending the free folk there, with a little bit of luck we can get them to send a contingency of men from Winterfell and we can ambush them on the road.” Davos said, growing more excited with each word.

“Could it work?” Sansa said, turning to Jon.

“Theoretically, yes. But we’d need to find a way to inform Umber and Karstark of this pretend wildling raid. If just Ramsay knows, I think there’s a good chance the bastard doesn’t tell them and forces them to stay.” Jon adds.

“The maester… any raven coming from Last Hearth or Karhold would have to go through Maester Wolkan at Winterfell.” Sansa whispered, obviously trying to find the path to success for this crazy plan. “Wolkan hates Ramsay”, she continued, her voice growing in volume, “Ramsay has terrified him for years and forces him to cover up his messes. I think we could actually get him to help us if we explained everything.”

“How are we going to get to the maester? He never leaves Winterfell. And even if we did, he is in service to Winterfell and the Lord of the keep.” Jon said skeptically.

“Jon, Ramsey wasn’t just cruel to me. He’s cruel to everyone. He doesn’t discriminate and he treats the smallfolk worst of all. What we need is to convince someone within Winterfell, a maid or stable boy, someone who comes to Winter town to pass a message to Wolkan. Then he can fake the ravens to Umber and Karstark.” Sansa said more excitedly.

“Why would you trust someone who you barely know to send a message to someone else you barely know, to try and fool people who will kill anyone who crosses them?” Tormund scoffed from the corner.

“We have to try. This may be the only way to change some of the numbers going into the battle. Gods know, we’re gonna need any help we can get at this point.” Davos responded.

They spent the next few hours working out the details, Sansa would go into Winter town accompanied by several Hornwood men. They were the most trustworthy contingent they had until the Mormonts arrived. Lady Lyanna was expected in three days’ time. In town, Sansa would approach one of the maids that worked directly in the keep. It was apparently no secret in the keep that Sansa Stark had suffered greatly at the hands of her latest husband and a maid might have the most sympathy for the Lady of Winterfell. Jon thought it was an unnecessary risk to send Sansa in herself, but she was determined that she contribute now as she wouldn’t be on the battlefield. After a long drawn out plan and writing out the missive to be given to Maester Wolkan, everyone departed until Jon and Davos remained.

“Should I be worried about Sansa and this ridiculous plan tomorrow?” Jon asked his wisest advisor.

“I think she genuinely wants to help, if there’s one thing Sansa really desires it is her home back. I’ll admit, I don’t totally trust the lass, she has a quick mind and a skilled tongue, but I think if anyone can pull this off, it’s her.” Davos responded.

There was something nagging Jon about Sansa, that growling voice in his head was distrustful of the woman, snarling every time she got close. She reeked of conspiracy. Sansa obviously had relationships with the people she met and knew in the south. Could she be holding something back? He saw red at the thought. He was putting his life on the line, the free folk’s lives on the line, and Rickon’s life on the line. If for some reason Sansa undermined or betrayed that, he didn’t know what he would do to her.

“I feel like I’m in a constant state of rage Davos. I don’t know what to do with all of my anger.” Jon confessed. “When Brienne was around, we could spar and that helped take the edge off, she’s a more than worthy opponent, but now, it’s just building in me.”

“Then we need to find you a new sparring partner, or a battle to wage. Maybe you should lead one of these wildling raids,” Davos suggested. “Heaven help whoever you fight though. Brienne is considered one of the best with a sword in the seven kingdoms, but she didn’t win a single round with you. Any longer and I thought you might kill her!”

“It wasn’t intentional, but she doesn’t have quit in her, that one. She’ll go until she drops. She’s got more skill with a blade than any of the men I ever sparred with in the Watch.” Jon responded. It wasn’t undue praise either, Brienne had kept with him every step until her stamina wore out. Years of ice and snow had honed Jon’s body into a lean and efficient tool, he could fight for hours and still keep moving.

“Maybe what you really need lad is a good fuck.” Davos said, obviously worried about his young leader.

To say the thought hadn’t crossed Jon’s mind would be a lie. He was no longer a sworn brother, and even if he was, nothing in his vows kept him from a one-time fuck with a willing maiden. But Jon had made a decision long ago that he didn’t want to leave any bastards named Snow behind him. Life was hard enough as the bastard son of a Lord, the bastard son of a bastard? He’d never do that to a child. So no, for now fucking wasn’t an option, if only his dreams would listen to him. He’d been having some vivid ones of late. Visions of fire, dry arid land, and purple eyes. Every time he woke from one of these dreams, he was hard as a rock and felt such anticipation that his heart would race. He might say that didn’t want to fuck because he didn’t want a child, but the truth was, he felt like he was waiting for something, or someone. Jon looked up to see Davos watching him carefully. The old man knew something was wrong, this wasn’t the first time Jon had confessed to his anger, but he did his best to reassure him.

“I’m alright Davos, it’s just been a long few months, going from House to House, facing rejection. Now we’re here and we need to get ahead of the winter, but we don’t have the men, it’s just a lot. Hopefully this crazy plan of Sansa’s will work, and we can start to turn the tide.” Jon said.

Davos clapped Jon on the shoulder and nodded. “I’m going to find my bed. I suggest you do the same. Tomorrow we send your sister into the fire and we need to be ready if we have to pull her out.”

Jon nodded and bid Davos good night. He made his way to the pile of furs in the corner of the tent and laid down. Ghost huddled against his side, providing warmth and a decent pillow. The direwolf had been staying close and grown closer whenever the growling voice in his head started up. Ghost was always a calming influence and seemed to balance the anger and rage that was taking root in Jon’s mind and heart. Hoping he would have a dreamless sleep; Jon leaned his head against his friend and shut his eyes for the night.

***

The anticipation was killing him. Jon paced back and forth in the tree line for what felt like the thousandth time. Sansa and the Hornwood men had been in Winter town for hours and even though there was no sign of struggle, Jon was starting to get worried. Spy craft was not Jon’s strong suit, Jon was as straight as they come. If he said something it was the truth, to the best of his ability he tried to be honest. Hell, he took Ygritte’s arrows when his own deception was discovered. The ease at which Sansa was taking to this mission was nerve wracking as well. How many times had she deceived him? Was this the new normal if he takes a leadership role? That everyone around him would be liars and actors? He couldn’t help but be impressed by his sister, she was walking right into enemy territory and with any luck, Ramsay would never even know she was there.

“King Crow, stop your pacin’ or I’ll cut your legs off!” Tormund grunted. “This is fuckin boring and you’re not helping.”

Jon scowled at his friend, maybe even best friend at this point. Tormund was a wild man for sure. He’d heard just yesterday that three different women were found coming out of his tent in the same night. Tormund just said “It’s gettin’ cold and fucking is the easiest way to keep warm!” Of course, he said it with a huge grin on his face. No doubt in several moons there’d be a few huge red headed children making their way into the world. Sometimes Jon wished he could be as carefree as Tormund. Tormund cared about his people, and fought for them, but the responsibility never made him brood quite like Jon did.

It wasn’t much longer until they heard the crack of a branch in the direction of town, they peaked around trees and saw that Sansa and the Hornwoods had made it back, with no apparent problems. In fact, Sansa had a huge grin on her face. She looked devious and vengeful. She went to speak but Jon hushed her quickly. “Let’s get back to somewhere we know is safe first.” They mounted their horses and made their way back to camp. Once inside the strategic tent again, surrounding the map of the North with their advisors, Jon started the conversation.

“Well, what the fuck took you so long?” Jon asked Sansa.

“I’ll have you know that I just made a deal that might just win us this whole battle Jon.” Sansa said haughtily. “I met with Anna, one of the maids in the keep. She’s the daughter of mother’s maid. Anyway, she said that Ramsay is worse than ever. Apparently after Theon and I escaped by killing Myranda, Ramsay killed his father, and fed his stepmother and her new baby son to the hounds. Alive.”

A collective groan echoed in the tent. There was no question before that Ramsay was a sick fuck, but it just never seemed to end with him.

“Umber is the one that betrayed Rickon. Our brother had been hiding there for some time before Smalljon decided to side with Ramsay. Karstark also came over willingly. Both of them can die for all I care. Ramsay killed a woman in his solar and has raped several of the women in the keep. Anna said that she escapes his notice because she hides in the kitchens most days. Most of the women are helping each other hide from him, and the men are stepping up to do more of the workload.” Sansa seemed surprised by this as she said it out loud, but it made sense to Jon. If he could have, he would have done anything to protect Sansa from Ramsay. “She told me that most of the workers inside the keep are being replaced by ones more loyal to Ramsay. That’s also leaving the smallfolk without jobs and food!”

Sansa sounded excited at this last statement which Jon thought was slightly inappropriate. But she continued before he could say anything. “Don’t you get it? This plays right into our hands! Ramsay has tortured or impoverished everyone who works and lives at Winterfell. They are ready to revolt! We could use the smallfolk to shore up defenses and to keep Winterfell safe. They could get us in and out of the castle, or even shut Ramsay out! An attack from the inside!” Sansa’s eyes were huge as she finished her thought.

Jon turned to Davos, “Could that work? Has that even been done before?”

Davos smiled in return “It was the two of you who told me that the North were a loyal people and the Stark name still inspired loyalty. You tell me? Could the smallfolk fight? Would they fight? For the chance to have their benevolent liege lords back, instead of a sadistic maniac? To have their home peaceful again? I would fight, and I’m willing to bet most of the smallfolk here will too.”

“They’ll need weapons, and training,” said one of the Hornwoods. “It also wouldn’t hurt to help them organize. We could return to town with Sansa for the next few days while the wildling ambushes happen and help with that.”

Jon smiled and nodded, he looked at Sansa then “Do you want to do this? Help build a network of smallfolk that will support us during and after the battle?”

“Winterfell is their home too. They deserve to be able to fight for it, and the best part is that Ramsay will be beaten by the people he has the least respect for.” Sansa said determined. “Also, I should say that Anna will pass along the instructions to Wolkan. She’s confident he’ll help. He’s taken to helping patch up the victims of Ramsay, she says that he’s even helped a couple escape the castle. We won’t know if he’s done it or not until they send contingencies from Winterfell, but according to the instructions he should provide the false messages to Umber and Karstark tomorrow morning.”

“I still think it’s a gamble, if this Wolkan doesn’t create the fake messages this whole shit plan falls apart.” Tormund grunted at Jon’s side.

“It’s worth a try. Tormund, you take 200 men and I’ll take another 200. Head up to Last Hearth, take the wildest looking free folk you can find. Hide in the woods, stay off the road and wait. Ambush whoever Umber sends. Leave no one alive. Maybe we’ll get lucky and he’ll send a few more groups before he finally catches on.” Jon commanded. “We’ll gather here in one week. By then the Mormonts will be here and final battle strategy will begin.”

Tormund slapped his shoulder. “I’ll make it happen Snow, but who’s going to make sure you don’t take any more knives huh?”

Jon smirked, “I can handle myself. I know who the enemy is now.”

He turned to Sansa who was excitedly whispering with Davos. “I’m really proud of you Sans. I hope you know that. What you did took a lot of courage and even if this doesn’t work out, you should be proud of the work you did.”

Sansa smiled and pulled her brother in for a hug. “Thank you, Jon, and it is going to work. Together we can do this, take back our home, save our brother, and protect the smallfolk.”

Jon thought it was a bit of a turn for his spoiled little sister to care about the smallfolk, but obviously she had been changed by the experiences in her life. She seemed to genuinely care about the people living in Winter town and Winterfell and he hoped this devotion was long lasting.

***

Jon had never particularly trusted Dim Dalba. The red-haired wildling was there at Hard Home and had been one of the few to make it south of the Wall. When he agreed to help Jon in winning Winterfell back, it was obviously reluctantly and only once Tormund questioned his pride and Wun Wun agreed to fight did Dim finally relent. The scraggly older man had obviously lived a hard life; he was wiry, and his hair was stringy. But if one thing could be said for the man, he was a very decent hunter. The deer that were currently hanging from nearby trees would feed their party through this entire raid most likely. That is if Ghost kept away from the feast, Jon kept catching him salivating over them and finally sent him off to do his own hunting. Jon and his group of 200 men sat in the woods not far from Winterfell, but on the way to Karhold. Tormund had taken his group toward Last Hearth. The first group of men Karstark had sent their way were quickly dispatched. It was a scouting party from the look of it, a small group of 20 men going to see if there really was a threat by the wildlings. Dim had coordinated the attack on the men.

Bargrim was a stout and sour wilding with a full beard and long hair. Jon never would have expected him to be the one to fake lying in the road, but he took to it with childlike enthusiasm, giggling the whole time. He laid in the road waiting for the approaching horse riders to spot him. The riders did spot Bargrim in the middle of the road and slowed down as they approached. That’s when the rest of the wildlings jumped out of the forest. The Karstarks didn’t stand a chance, the numbers were easily on the Free Folks’ side. Jon just watched this first raid, familiarizing himself with the wildlings’ techniques. He noticed that primarily the Free Folk attacked as soon as possible, leaving the armored soldiers no time to truly draw their weapons. The attack was over in minutes. The Free Folk stripped the bodies of any useful items, weapons, armor, coin, nothing went to waste in the True North. Jon insisted that they burn the bodies quickly, and now the entire contingency of Free Folk were gathered around campfires and trading their spoils.

“I can’t believe this plan is working. Hopefully the next group is a little bigger, I didn’t like not even being able to get my blade wet.” Grunted Dim Dalba. “As fun as it is to take a group by surprise, it’s even more satisfying when they see you comin’”.

“I don’t think you’ll be disappointed, Karstark’s bound to send more when he realizes this lot disappeared. I just wish we’d know before they got here how many to expect.” Jon responded over his ale horn.

“Well, why didn’t you say so, Crow, that’s easy enough to manage!” Dim laughed, then turned around and bellowed across the clearing, “VARLECK! Get the fuck over here!”

Jon watched as a thin man made his way in between the campfires. He had long blond hair and his teeth were an unattractive shade of brown. “What d’ya want? I was just gettin’ ready to lay down.” Varleck grunted at Dim and Jon.

“Do you have that mangy bird of yours, Varleck?” Dim asked.

“He’s ‘round here somewhere, whatcha need ‘im for?” Varleck responded.

Dim nodded at Jon, indicating it was his turn to take over the conversation. It was then that Jon realized what was going on. Varleck was a warg, and he used a bird like Orell did. Jon didn’t like thinking about the wildling that insisted he kill an innocent man then turned him over to Tormund and Ygritte when he didn’t. He’d never liked the man, but he tried not to let past encounters sway him against this Varleck. The truth was, they could use his sight, and it would be a bit hypocritical to be prejudiced against wargs when he could still enter Ghost’s mind at will. He couldn’t believe it didn’t occur to him sooner that there were probably wargs in the Free Folk forces. Fuck, what was he thinking? Was he just going to put these characters on the front line of a battle against the fully armored Bolton forces? He had raiders and wargs. Thank the gods they thought of this plan before just walking into battle.

“I’d like to know who we’re dealing with and how many before they get to us,” Jon told Varleck. “Can you use your bird to keep an eye out? Let us know when the fuckers get close and how many there are?”

Varleck shrugged, “Course I can, do it all the time.” Varleck glanced up at the sky and his eyes went white, a short while later he returned his brown gaze to Jon. “Nothing yet, world’s quiet, but I’ll keep an eye and tell ‘ya when they’re on the move.”

“Thank you. Make sure you get enough meat to eat.” Jon said to the skinny man.

Varleck grunted and made his way back across the clearing. Jon knew the wildlings had abilities that the Northerners would never understand but as he looked across the group of men quietly speaking or listening to one of their company tell a story, he realized just how content he was with the “savages”. The snarling voice in his head was quiet and calm overcame him. The decision to use the warging abilities of Varleck had settled his nerves somewhat, and he finally felt like he did something right. He took to his bed roll while he felt at peace.

The next few days resulted in constant anticipation. Jon and the rest of the Free Folk settled in along the road in the woods, waiting for their prey to make an entrance. Finally, on the third day of waiting, Varleck made his way down the line. “They’re comin’. Maybe 100 or so. Fully armored and riding fast. These ones won’t be so easy to slow down.”

“Ideas?” Jon asked Dim Dalba.

“We could use that wolf of yours, scare ‘em into slowing down.” Dim suggested.

“Ghost doesn’t howl, doesn’t make noise. Nothing that could alert them. Is it possible to warg into their horses?” Jon asked.

Varleck and Dim looked at each other and shrugged. “I guess it’s possible, but I ain’t tried it, not many horses in the true North besides what the crows ride on.” Varleck responded. They could hear the hoofbeats now, not far off in the distance. They’d miss their shot if they couldn’t get them to slow down.

“They’re going too fast to put a man in the road, they’re likely to just run him over.” Jon said.

Dim looked at Varleck. “Try the horses, see what you can do.” Varleck nodded reluctantly and turned his face to the sky again. Once more his pupils disappeared. Jon could see the soldiers now, the head of the group coming into their stretch of road. All of the sudden one of the horses screamed and halted. He started bucking his rider about. The whole group slowed down. Just then one of the Free Folk signaled that the last of the Karstark men had entered their territory. Jon drew Longclaw, the battle was on.

Jon charged the nearest man. He sliced through the saddle straps and the man crashed to the ground. A few of the men around him shouted and started drawing their swords. The nearest man plunged his sword toward Jon’s neck. Jon grabbed the man’s wrist and shoved Longclaw into the man’s gut. He turned at the battle cry behind him and met swords with the next man. He didn’t last long against Jon before he took his sword to the throat. He felt another presence at his side but before he could turn, a huge white blur took out the man. The next men came at him in a group of three. In these moments Jon wished he had a second sword and could figure out how to wield both at the same time. Couldn’t be much different than the wildling off to the side who was hacking at his opponents with two different axes. Jon fought off the three men, each of them putting up a decent fight, but none of them no match for him. Jon felt a sharp pain on his left forearm. A man had managed to sneak up behind him and grazed him with his blade. Jon turned and slit his throat in one quick move.

Before he knew it, the battle was over. The Karstarks laid dead or dying while the Free Folk started pillaging the bodies again. The pyres would be going by nightfall, and Jon added nearly 60 horses to his forces. Jon and Dim Dalba waited another few days but it was the last group Harald Karstark sent their way. The week was up, and they needed to make it back to camp. There was no more time. Winter was nearly in full swing and there were no more men to recruit. This was it. He only hoped Tormund took out more than 120 in his battle with the Umbers.

The first thing Jon noticed when riding back into camp was, they seemed to have way more food than when they left. Also, the Free Folk and Northmen weren’t fighting in every corner of camp. In fact, the mood seemed almost jovial. “KING CROW!!!!” Jon turned toward the owner of the boisterous shout. Tormund with a few bruises on his face but smiling his huge smile with a horn full of what he was sure was goat’s milk based on the man’s beard approached him. “What took you so long?” he chuckled at Jon.

“Sixty new horses and provisions did. How did it go with the Umbers?” Jon asked.

“Took those fuckers for all they’re worth. Umber kept sending ‘em. He fucking hates us Free Folk, so he just kept sending men. We reckon we took out at least 300 by the time we were done.” Tormund told him.

“Is that where all this food came from?” Jon asked.

“No, that’s all your sister. She stole it from Ramsay himself with the help of her smallfolk friends. They raided every caravan heading into Winterfell. They took some back to Winter town for the people there but the majority they sent our way, at least that’s what Davos said.” Tormund explained.

Shock filled Jon. He never would have thought that the smallfolk would’ve cared enough to help them like this. It also came with some dread. Ramsay had to know that the village was turning on him. It was only a matter of time before he started in on the people living in Winter town. He and Tormund made their way into the large strategy tent to tell his sister as much. It was growing dark and the wind was picking up, snow swirled through the air as he made his way through camp. Despite it being fucking cold and being the eve of the great battle, spirits seemed to be high. He could hear raucous laughter and cheery singing from the different groups settled around their campfires. The tent was warm inside. Sansa stood at the map table, along with Davos, Melisandre, a Hornwood man named Duran Feller, a Mazin, and Lyanna Mormont with her trusted advisor. Everyone looked up as Jon and Tormund entered.

“Thank the Gods.” Sansa breathed as she saw him no worse for the wear. “I thought we were going to have to send our own search party for you.”

“Sorry it took so long, we just wanted to make sure that we weren’t spotted on the way.” Jon replied. He then went on to explain what happened with the Karstark forces. The men looked a little skeptical when he explained how they used a warg to spot the coming men and spook the horses. Tormund just nodded, as if it was a common occurrence.

“Is this something we could use in the battle with Ramsay?” Davos asked.

“I don’t see why not. It would definitely be to our advantage to see where all of his men are.” Jon replied. “But tell me about the village, all the food, what have you been up to here?”

Sansa went on to explain that the Duran and the other Hornwoods helped the villagers organize into a band of men. They dressed up like wildlings and proceeded to attack the caravans coming in with food. Sansa was insistent that Ramsay didn’t know it was the villagers and Winterfell men that were doing the raiding. Apparently, he was ranting about the wildlings to anyone who would listen, which just spurred Smalljon Umber to send more of his men Tormund’s way. The only reason Harald Karstark didn’t send more was because Ramsay insisted that some of the men had to stay in Winterfell, especially when groups of men disappeared.

“What side will they take in the battle Sansa? Can we count on the smallfolk to fight?” Jon asked.

“That’s what we’ve been trying to figure out. If we can draw Ramsay and the bulk of his men out of Winterfell then the smallfolk with a few Hornwoods can take the castle from the inside and trap Ramsay on the field.” Sansa said excitedly. Duran nodded, indicating that the Hornwoods would be happy to do their part.

“So, we just need to figure out a way to draw him out to the battle, where we will meet him with 2,000 Free Folk, and about 400 Northmen? And keep him occupied long enough to trap him outside? What about Rickon?” Jon asked.

“Jon, I love Rickon, he’s my little brother and I want nothing more than to protect him. But we need to accept the possibility that we won’t be getting our brother back alive.” Sansa said sadly.

Rage built up in Jon. Rickon was the main reason he decided to do all of this. Yes, it made sense to have Winterfell as a stronghold for the war to come, but Rickon was the main reason to take back Winterfell. He slammed his hands down on the table and took deep breaths. They had barely enough men. They had put a dent in Ramsay’s forces, but they still weren’t even in numbers. They had no calvary, 300 horses at most. The biggest asset they had were the smallfolk in the village and castle who he wasn’t sure he could trust to get the job done. And they were one good storm away from total winter, and while the Free Folk and Northmen could handle winter much better than Stannis’s forces could, it would still be hard on them. The battle was the day after tomorrow. There was nothing more he could do, and now he finds out that Sansa doesn’t even think they can get their baby brother back.

“We’re out of time, the battle is coming, and this is the best option we have. We’ll meet with Ramsay on the field in the morning of the battle and hopefully piss him off enough that he comes out of Winterfell with his forces. Tomorrow we’ll prepare and march to Winterfell the day after. It’s time.” Jon said resolutely.

“Jon! We need more men, and more time!” Sansa cried. “If we go into battle the day after tomorrow we may not survive!”

“And if we get stuck here, we may not survive either. There are no more men. It’s time.” Jon said.

Just then the tent flaps snapped open behind Jon. Jon swung around to see who was there. Standing in the entrance to the tent was a broad-shouldered figure with piercing blue eyes.

“I brought more men.” The man’s voice was familiar and shocking. It was impossible.

“Robb?” Jon breathed.


	2. Daenerys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daenerys returns to Meereen with the Dothraki and expels the masters who are attacking the city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know we have a lot of questions about what's going on in the North, but we have to catch up with Dany first. My intention is to go back and forth. Enjoy! See you next week! 
> 
> Side note: A lot of this chapter is show canon, but with a lot of inner monologue and some logistical changes. We'll move away from it once she's firmly set up in her next chapter.

The last time Daenerys Targaryen had ridden in front of a large khalasar had been at the side of her husband, Khal Drogo. It had been his khalasar, and she had been his property. Now, years later, she rode as a Khaleesi in her own right. In front of the largest Dothraki hoard in history. She wished her husband and brother were here to see it. Not because they’d be proud of her, no, because she did it in spite of them. One of the hardest lessons she’d had to learn throughout her life was that if she wanted something done, she’d have to do it. Viserys was weak, constantly promising they’d go home and reclaim what was theirs by right but never able to muster the men or the strength to get the job done. In the end, the closest he got was selling Daenerys to Drogo with the promise of the warlord’s help to take the seven kingdoms. Viserys lost all power when Dany learned to communicate with her husband herself, and when she bonded with him. While she couldn’t say she’d ever freely loved Drogo, she did feel a great amount of pain when he died. She felt a greater loss for Rhaego and what would have been a glorious future for her son. Now she rode herself at the head of the Khalasar, now it was her hair that was braided, and her children would help her win the world.

It did feel wrong to be riding in a Dothraki hoard without Jorah the Andal. Jorah Mormont had been a source of comfort and wisdom for most of the time she knew him. Then when Ser Barristan arrived with news from Westeros, it seemed like her whole world exploded. Daenerys knew that Jorah had fallen in love with her at some point, he had finally just confessed to it. To her though, he was always just her stalwart guide, and her friend. Sometimes she wondered if she could love another person, if so, it hadn’t happened yet. Maybe that’s why she felt such an ache whenever she thought about her dead son, and her loss of fertility. She would never have human children of her own. After the witch cursed her, her moonblood had never been regular. And quite honestly, if it was possible it would have happened by now with the help of the man at her side.

She glanced at Daario Naharis. He was a very attractive man. He was also a skilled lover, he didn’t quite have the stamina she wished he would, but he kept up, and always helped her finish. The night she burnt down the temple of the Dosh Khaleen, killing all the khals in the process, she had ridden him hard in the tent provided for her. He didn’t complain, but she could tell he was tired soon into the encounter. She knew he felt more for her than she did for him. He was constantly trying to go slow, kiss her, show her affection. It wasn’t that Dany was opposed to that, but it just felt wrong with him. He was a release, supposed to be a reprieve from expectations. The softness should be reserved for someone she loved, and she didn’t love Daario. He was a good man, and loyal, as long as he was getting what he felt was owed, but he had an ego. He said he didn’t, but she didn’t miss the looks between him and Jorah. There had definitely been bragging on his part. She also saw that he enjoyed the power being her lover got him. There was no way she could bring Daario Naharis with her to Westeros. She was a little scared of his reaction when she finally told him. He wouldn’t hit her, but he’d be angry for sure. He’s overinvested in her. She would need to make alliances, most likely through marriage. That’s the excuse she’d give him, but the truth was much more complicated. For several months now her dreams, which had always been vivid, had become much more focused. She dreamed of ice and snow, glowing blue eyes, and a blue rose planted in the ice of the Great Wall. Every time she woke from these dreams, she felt a sense of anticipation, as if she was waiting for something, or someone. Daenerys thought that maybe more than just the throne awaited her in Westeros.

Up ahead she saw strange wind patterns. Something was moving beyond the rocks. Something big. She reached out her senses and connected with her largest child. Elation filled her as she finally felt his warm mind touch hers. She had been so worried that maybe he was lost to her, but as always, Drogon showed up right when she needed him. She was still wary about their meeting though, given how they left things in the highlands. She slowed her horse and Daario followed suit, holding up his hand to halt the Khalasar.

“Everything alright?” He asked, looking at her.

“How many days ride to Meereen?” She countered.

Meereen had only served to bring her frustration and misery so far. Every time she tried to help the people, or do the most basic decent thing, like end slavery all she got was resistance. No one seemed to see the big picture. The masters didn’t want to understand that there was another way of life that didn’t involve owning other people. Slavery went against everything she felt was just in the world. Daenerys had been essentially a slave herself, sold to a barbarian by her mad brother, used by her owner as he wished. The idea that other men and women were subjected to the same treatment, and most for far longer and far worse than she did sickened her. Slavery would not exist in Daenerys Targaryen’s world. Not in any form. She needed to explain that to the Dothraki before she brought them to Westeros.

“A day at best.” He answered.

“How many ships will I need to bring my Khalasar to Westeros?” She asked quickly.

“Dothraki and all their horses, the Unsullied, the Second Sons, a thousand ships easily, maybe more.” He answered. “And no one has that many.”

“No one yet.” Daenerys answered with a smirk.

“So, we make it to Meereen, and then sail to Westeros? Then what? You sit on a chair? That’s not what you’re made for.” Daario turned to her with his lopsided grin.

Daenerys continued to smirk at him. One of his other flaws, assuming things about her character. Dany didn’t need anyone telling her what or who she was. “What was I made for?”

“You’re a conqueror, Daenerys Stormborn.” He replied. Dany didn’t like that answer. Yes, she meant to conquer Westeros like her ancestor Aegon before her, but she was going to reclaim what she lost. She was going to build a better world where there were no slaves, and smallfolk got some say in how their lives were lived. Conqueror seemed so harsh for how she wanted to rule, the peace she meant to bring after the wars were one. Conqueror said she was somewhere she wasn’t supposed to be. That was not her situation with the seven kingdoms at all.

She continued to stare at the whirling dust before here. The eddies were getting larger and she could feel Drogon moving ever closer in her mind. She needed a moment with her son before the rest of the men saw him. “Wait here.” She told Daario clearly. She pushed her silver horse forward toward the moving dust. A few minutes ahead she turned a bend and on the ground before her a shadow grew. She looked up as Drogon descended toward her. Relief filled her as he appeared healthy and strong, and quite a bit larger than before. According to Tyrion, dragons never stop growing so there was no telling how large Drogon would get. He touched down before her as she dismounted her horse. It turned and ran back towards the Khalasar. Daenerys approached Drogon slowly. He was staring at her and huffing in annoyance. When she finally reached him, she could feel his joy through their bond. Her son was just as happy to meet her as she was to see him. Dany wouldn’t be riding with the Khalasar back to Meereen. Daario could take it from here. She was flying back to the pyramid. But first, she needed to cement her bond to the hoard. She mounted Drogon and they took to the air.

Nothing compared to riding a dragon. From her vantage point, Dany could see her entire Khalasar, all 100,000 men. Drogon roared at the riders below. She directed him to land right in front of the company. He screeched at them as he landed, daring them to come closer. Dany sat up higher on him and started shouting in Dothraki. “Blood riders are chosen to fight beside and guard their khal. I am not a khal. I am your Khaleesi! I choose all of you to be my blood riders!” The Dothraki screamed their approval waving their weapons in the air. “I will ask more of you than ever before! Will you ride the wooden horses across the black poisoned water? Will you kill my enemies in their iron suits and tear down their stone houses? Will you give me the Seven Kingdoms, the gift I was promised in the temple of the Dosh Khaleen?” They continued to cheer. “Are you with me? Now and always?”

The Dothraki hoard raised their weapons and reared their horses to her as Drogon echoed by screeching his approval. Daario sat before her on his horse, looking concerned. The Dothraki were her men, her people, she would protect them and provide for them. They would be loyal to her, their Khaleesi. The Dothraki recognized strength above all else, she had to be strong to keep them loyal. He said she was a conqueror; well this is what that looked like.

She looked at him from on top of Drogon and gave him instructions. “Lead the Khalasar to Meereen, take the main roads so I can find you. I’m going to fly ahead. For now, expect to enter the city from the main gate.” Daario nodded his agreement. She gripped the spikes on Drogon’s neck a little tighter and gave the command for him to fly. Daenerys Targaryen made her way back to Meereen.

***

She expected to see a peaceful dawn, with the people bustling below her, ships moving in and out of the harbor. There were ships in the harbor, but they weren’t peacefully moving in and out. The Ghiscari sails blew in the wind as the ships launched giant fireballs into the city. The sky was nearly black from the smoke rising from the buildings and she could hear the people screaming all the way up in the air on Drogon’s back. Parts of the city were engulfed in flame. Astapor and Yunkai had returned for their vengeance. Dany knew that getting rid of slavery would be hard task, but it seemed to be never ending. Sometimes she felt like she’d be fighting these battles forever. And it was a thankless battle. A small part of her wished she could turn Drogon around and go find some quiet place to live out her life. But she had taken responsibility for these people. They were hers to protect and shield. She guided Drogon back to the Great Pyramid. It would fastest to simply land on the roof, and the enemies’ fire balls weren’t reaching that high yet. Drogon landed roughly and she scrambled down onto the balcony.

The door opened and an Unsullied soldier emerged from inside, spear drawn and shield covering his body. His eyes widened when he saw her and backed into the room. He knelt before her and quickly the rest of the Unsullied followed suit. She rushed into the room. Missandei and Tyrion stood in the corner, the former holding a dagger in a tight grip. Greyworm stood opposite of her, with his own dagger raised. All of them looked shocked to see her. Missandei and Greyworm almost immediately echoed the Unsullied and knelt before her.

“Your Grace.” Greyworm murmured. “Your Grace, we’re so glad to see you,” Missandei added.

Daenerys turned to look at Tyrion, his shock was giving way to guilt. Daenerys had years to get a grip on the dragon inside her. When she was angry, her blood boiled and the snarling presence in her mind became a roar. It had been a while since that fiery presence was unleashed in her, but staring at Tyrion, the dragon was awake and snarling inside her. The only color she seemed to be able to see was red. “Can someone please explain to me why the entire fleet of Slaver’s Bay is currently hurling fire balls into my city?” She asked menacingly.

Tyrion glanced nervously at Missandei and Greyworm. Neither one spoke, waiting for the clever man to explain his ridiculous plans with their ruler. “It might have been that the deal I brokered with the masters fell through.” He shrugged.

“What deal would that be Tyrion?” Daenerys snarled back.

“Before I explain it, allow me to say that you mounted your dragon and flew off to Gods know where and left us here to fix the mess.” Tyrion slowed down as he saw the sparks of rage in Daenerys’s eyes. “I met with the masters from Yunkai and Astapor. They were angry with us for abolishing slavery. They were the funding behind the Sons of the Harpy.”

“Of course they were angry that we abolished slavery. They’re slavers.” Daenerys growled. “That’s how they make their fortunes and can afford the ships currently attacking our harbor. What was the deal Tyrion?”

Tyrion winced. “I offered them the ability to phase out slavery over time.”

“How much time?” Daenerys asked.

“Seven years.” Tyrion was looking at the ground.

“So, let me get this straight. You come to Meereen from Westeros, where slavery hasn’t existed for hundreds of years to advise me on how to be a queen of Westeros. Instead, while I’m fleeing for my life from Meereen, you take control and broker arrangements with slavers that allow them to keep slaves for the next SEVEN YEARS?” Daenerys roared at the end. “Now Meereen is being burned to the ground by the masters you thought would take your deal, no questions asked?” She turned to look at Greyworm and Missandei. “Where were you two during all of these negotiations? I can’t imagine either one of you agreeing to them.”

“They fought me long and hard on it, Your Grace. I’m afraid neither one is a very big fan of me.” Tyrion answered her instead. “Although we have gotten to know each other over wine.” He smiled briefly at her two advisors and friends.

She turned to Greyworm and Missandei. “Leave Lord Tyrion and myself alone please.” Immediately the room emptied.

“Did Varys have something to do with these negotiations?” Daenerys asked curious.

“He was present, but the idea was mine.” Tyrion answered.

“And where is he now?” She asked.

“He returned to Westeros in search of allies for you.” Tyrion explained. “There have been developments there that have opened up new avenues for Your Grace. With any luck he’ll return with ships in the next few months. Pray tell, where did you go these last few months?”

“I returned rather unwillingly to Vaes Dothrak, in the Great Grass Sea. And I brought my own allies.” Daenerys said darkly. “They should be here in hours, ready to defend their Khaleesi.”

The fire balls had continued to shake the walls of the pyramid as they had spoken, and the sun had risen completely. Daenerys turned out to the balcony to survey the damage. After watching for a long moment, she returned to Tyrion who refused to look her in the eye.

“Despite appearances, I think you’ll find the city is on the rise.” He said shakily. The growling dragon in Dany’s mind was back as she looked at the cowering dwarf. “Perhaps, we should take shelter?”

“The city is on the rise?” Daenerys questioned.

“Meereen is strong. Commerce has returned to the markets. The people are behind you, at least most of the people. If I’m being honest, you did leave me with quite a mess Your Grace.” Tyrion responded. “The masters cannot let Meereen succeed, because if it does, it’s a city without slavery, a beacon of a better life.”

“Good. Shall we begin?” Dany asked. Tyrion looked at her, confused. “I will crucify the masters, set their fleets afire, kill every one of their soldiers, and return their cities to the dirt.” He cringed as she moved toward him. “You don’t approve?”

“You sound like your father. He had caches of wildfire stored under the streets of King’s Landing. Large barrels set up underneath all the major landmarks. He would have burned everyone, ally or enemy, loyal subjects and traitors. He was willing to kill every man, woman, and child within the city walls. That’s why my brother killed him. Not because he was trying to steal the throne, but because he was trying to save innocent people from Aerys’s wrath.” Tyrion finished angrily.

“That’s entirely different…” Daenerys started.

“We’re talking about burning cities, so no, it’s not different.” Tyrion said strongly. “I am more than willing to serve you Your Grace until my dying day. I will take you to Westeros, and I will do all I can to see you on the Iron Throne. But I will not be responsible for placing another tyrant in power. I suggest an alternate approach to burning every living thing.”

They were interrupted when a projectile finally reached the top of the pyramid. They both turned from the windows as they blew into the room. “Alright Tyrion, we do this your way.” Daenerys said.

Greyworm sent the fastest rider he had to meet the Dothraki on the road. They needed them at the main gates to clear out any remaining Sons of the Harpy. Then they sent word to the masters, requesting a parley. Daenerys, Tyrion, Greyworm, Missandei, and a small group of Unsullied made their way to an overlook where they would meet the masters.

“Once before I offered you peace, had you not been so arrogant, you could have returned to your homeland with a fleet of ships.” The Yunkish master sneered to her. Daenerys remembered the man, remembered how terrified he had been by her sons when they were barely larger than dogs. She couldn’t wait for him to see them now. “Instead you will flee Slaver’s Bay on foot, like the beggar you are.”

“We’re here to discuss terms of surrender, not to trade insults.” Tyrion said dryly.

The master from Astopor began to explain that her freed men and women would be returned to slavery. Not even addressed by name, just by their expertise. Daenerys was disgusted by the man, but rage took over as he spoke about slaughtering her sons. As if they could even get close enough. Her heart already ached at the idea of being reunited with Rhaegal and Viserion. She couldn’t wait to burn her enemies.

“We obviously didn’t communicate clearly. We’re here to discuss your surrender, not mine.” Daenerys countered.

“Your reign is over!” The master shouted.

Daenerys watched as Drogon soared toward her, ready for battle. She could feel his eagerness as he connected his mind to hers. Their desire for fire and blood spurred each other on. “My reign has just begun.” She said clearly.

The masters turned as Drogon let out the first of his roars. He flew over their party and landed behind her at her command. She climbed on top of him and set her sights on the harbor. Flying with Drogon was exhilarating and there was a certain rush when she knew people were looking up in awe. She watched as Drogon’s shadow moved across the city below. They approached the underground vault where his brothers resided. She heard their echoing cries and felt the soft touches of their minds to hers. Rhaegal and Viserion moved out into the light. They were beautiful, her children. Easily smaller than Drogon, she was once again hit with the guilt of having to shut them away. Never again. She was stronger now, she understood them more now. They would fly free for the rest of their lives. A dragon is not a slave. Both dragons took to the air behind her. They passed the main gate of Meereen and she could hear the screamers in the distance, the cloud of dust rising on the road. The Dothraki had arrived.

Daenerys turned her attention to the harbor and the ships continuing to launch projectiles into the city. Daenerys chose a large flagship in the middle of the fleet. Drogon reared up, much like a horse would, steadily flapping his wings to keep them airborne. Rhaegal and Viserion swooped in fast, they were both flying so well for their first time out in nearly a year. Daenerys looked down on their chosen victim. How dare they send fire into her city? The snarling dragon within and the one she was perched atop were on the same page when she commanded “Dracarys.”

Drogon’s fire lit up the ship, turning men to ash instantly. The planks of the deck bent and then broke under the heat. All three dragons concentrated on the ship until the hull finally broke and the vessel started to sink beneath the water. The dragons didn’t stop. They continued shooting flames until the entire ship was underwater. Rhaegal roared his rage and shot fire bolts across the fleet. All around her men were jumping into the sea to avoid the flames and abandon the ships. Daenerys needed the others; she couldn’t burn down the entire set of ships. The dragons continued to rage as the ships slowly made their way to the docks. Drogon and Daenerys stayed in the air until every single ship was surrendered. He then took her back to the pyramid.

***

Daenerys woke with a start, heart pounding, feeling needy and restless. Her dreams were getting more real every night. Scenes were taking shape in her mind. Large castles, snow on the ground, the unmistakable sound of tents flapping in the wind, the blue rose planted in the wall of ice, and now a man was starting to take shape. And the feelings building inside her for this phantom man were strangely stronger than ones she felt for the man currently laying at her side. Also surprising was that it felt wrong to continue this with Daario while her feelings were building somewhere else. Her advisors might think she was crazy, but Dany had always had dreams that came true. She knew that the man she saw in her visions would come to mean much more to her than the sellsword. She felt an overwhelming desire to just jump on Drogon and fly to Westeros, to find her elusive vision, but she still wasn’t quite sure for whom she was searching. She sighed and stood from the bed, wrapping a robe around her form and moving to the carafe of wine that was always full no matter the time of day. No doubt it was the work of Missandei. She always seemed to know what Dany needed before she did.

She took her wine and walked out onto the balcony; the air was cooler at night but still nothing close to the temperatures Tyrion warned her they would encounter in Westeros. She looked down to the harbor, the master’s ships lined up neatly, the sails turning from white to black. Her house sigil, the three-headed dragon would soon take up residence on those sails. But still, it wasn’t enough. They needed more ships. She heard movement behind her and turned as Daario stepped out on the balcony shirtless and holding his own cup of wine. She was appreciative of the view; Daario had a fine form. It was time to cut him loose. He needed to know that his place would not be at her side. Best to do it now while he was relaxed.

He spoke first. “Your ships are nearly ready. The sails are almost all painted.”

“It’s not enough. We need more, and I don’t know where they’re going to come from. We’re close, but still so far away.” She sighed, turning to look at him. “Daario…”

“Things will come into being. They always do for the Dragon Queen.” He smiled at her. “I’m curious to see how the Dothraki do on the poison water.”

“You’re not coming with us.” She said it quickly, like ripping off a bandage, hoping to be done quickly.

“New strategy?” He asked, obviously not understanding, or willfully not listening. “You want me to take the Second Sons to the West? If we attack Casterly Rock, there will be nowhere for the Lannisters to run.”

“You’re not going to Westeros. You’re staying here with the Second Sons.” She continued. He looked so confused and the hurt was starting to show on her face. She rushed to explain. “There’s finally peace in Meereen. You will keep the peace while people choose their own leaders.”

“Fuck the people! Fuck Meereen!” He said sharply. “I’m here for you, not them.” Desperation was creeping into his tone. He reached out as if to pull her closer. She stood solidly where she was.

“You promised me your allegiance, you swore you would follow my commands. This is what I command.” She said forcefully. “You are the leader of the Second Sons and that comes before whatever we are to each other. If I’m going to rule in Westeros, I’ll need allies, marriage is the best way to create those relationships.” She swallowed down thoughts of her dreams and the man she sensed was waiting for her somewhere in the Seven Kingdoms.

“Who are you marrying this time?” He asked after taking another swig of his wine. No doubt he was thinking about her ill-fated betrothal to Hizdar zo Loraq.

“I don’t know. Maybe no one.” She said, taking a drink of her wine.

“But you need to lure the families to the table. An unmarried queen is always a good draw I suppose. They’ll be fighting over you like lions out for prey.” Daario said with a little disgust. “And that’s what you want?”

“I can’t bring a lover to Westeros.” Dany said, trying not to be offended.

“A king wouldn’t think twice about it.” Daario fired back.

The growling voice of her inner dragon was starting up. She knew this wouldn’t be easy, but his insulting her was starting to grate her nerves. “So that’s what you want? To be brought as my dirty secret? My plaything?”

“I’m not proud. I don’t care what perfumed lord sits next to you in the throne room. I don’t want a crown. I want you.” Daario said pleadingly. Dany cringed inwardly. Daario may not want a crown, but he definitely had an ego. Any man that did end up her husband would never hear the end of it from him. He would crow over his place in her bed. Daario was anything but subtle. He set down his goblet and took hers and set it down as well. He grabbed her hands and she braced herself for what she knew was next.

“I love you. And I make you happy. You know I do. Bring me with you. Let me fight for you.” It stung. Not because she felt the same way about him, but because she didn’t. Yes, Daario was a distraction, he was fun, and made her smile, but there was no substance. This was not a man who would stand with her and allow her to make her own decisions. Not without questioning everything. He wasn’t calm, everything was amplified with him. At the end of the day, he wasn’t her match, and it terrified her that she might never find it.

“I can’t.” She said simply.

He backed up from her, shocked. “Tyrion told you to do this.”

Daenerys shook her head. “First, no one tells me to do anything. Second, we haven’t discussed it yet. He’s the most knowledgeable of my advisors about Westeros, but he doesn’t dictate what I will do.”

“I’m of no use to you then?” Daario said, resigned.

“Don’t get angry.” She said to him. Daario may not be her match, but she did feel affection for him. She didn’t want him to suffer.

“I’m not angry, just disappointed. Who comes after you? Daenerys Stormborn, Mother of Dragons?” He said amused.

“A great many women I imagine.” Daenerys replied.

Daario sighed. “So I expect this is over, even if you have months before you leave. You’re done right?” Daenerys nodded slightly. “Well, let’s at least celebrate the fun we’ve had together, eh?”

Dany smiled at him and took his hand as he led them back inside. One last time to release the tension from their parting, and he would be free to move on.

***

Daario had said that her ships would come into being, that everything always does for the Dragon Queen. Turns out he was right. Nearly a week after their parting, Dany was in the reception hall with Tyrion, Missandei, and Greyworm with the first of the Westerosi before her.

The Greyjoys had a stance about them that said, “Fuck the world”. The sister was more obvious about it, but even the brother held himself that way. Tyrion had been the one to inform her about their arrival and had given her a brief overview of the ruling family of the Iron Islands. They were a sea-faring people which is what she needed, but they were hard and raucous as well. Daenerys couldn’t see how they could be any worse than the Dothraki in that regard, but as she looked at the calculating glint in the woman’s eye, she thought they may be more dangerous. Tyrion wasn’t a fan of Theon, the brother. Apparently, he had been raised as a ward in another noble family, a spoil of war really. Despite his circumstances he was treated well by the Starks. That surprised her. The Starks were the primary ally of the usurper and she had been raised on stories of the northern brutes. According to Tyrion though, they were an honorable family, and one of the oldest in Westeros, so she might have to reevaluate her prejudices. Theon had been raised in their home and been cared for as a noble child, during the War of the Five Kings. However, he betrayed the Northern house and took Winterfell for his own. He was promptly defeated by the Boltons and now managed to end up back with his kin.

“The last time I saw you, you were at Winterfell. Constantly running around after Robb Stark, casting biting remarks at Jon Snow. I took the measure of you then, and found you wanting.” Tyrion said harshly.

“It was a long time ago.” The man answered, head down, eyes on the floor. Daenerys noticed that he had a thick northern accent. Not dissimilar to Jorah’s.

“It was.” Tyrion answered. “And how have things been going for you since then? Not so well I’d imagine. Especially not after you murdered the Stark boys.”

“I didn’t murder the Stark boys,” Theon answered quickly. “But I did things that were just as bad or worse.”

“And he paid for them.” Yara intervened.

“It doesn’t look like it.” Tyrion snarled back. Daenerys watched the exchange with interest. She wasn’t foolish. She knew Tyrion meant for himself to be her primary advisor when they reached Westeros, and he was establishing his dominance here and now. While Dany knew it was important to have an advisor from Westeros, she still wasn’t convinced that Tyrion was the man for the job. He let his emotions show too quickly, was too affected by the things he didn’t like. He didn’t handle Meereen well while she was gone. She could forgive most of it as she did leave a mess behind, but most concerning is that he didn’t listen to Missandei and Greyworm. They may not have had the experience with political intrigue, but they understood Slaver’s Bay better than Tyrion ever would. She was also wary of him seeing as her main enemy was his sister. Dany knew what it was like to have a sibling who mistreated you, but blood ran thick in Westeros.

“Is it complicated for you?” Tyrion continued pressing Theon. “Do you even know who you are?”

Daenerys was done. Obviously, Theon had personally offended Tyrion with his slights. There would be no productive conversation if she let Tyrion continue. She looked at Theon. “You’ve brought 100 ships from the Iron Fleet, with men to sail them. In return, I expect you want me to support your claim to the throne of the Iron Islands?”

Theon shook his head. “Not my claim. Hers.” He said nodding at his sister.

This was a surprise. Perhaps the man before her had learned some hard lessons. “Has the Iron Islands ever had a queen before?” She asked Yara.

“No more than Westeros.” she countered.

“Our uncle Euron returned after a long absence. He murdered our father and stole the throne from Yara. If we’d have stayed, he would have murdered us too.” Theon explained.

“Lord Tyrion says your father was a terrible king.” Daenerys said.

“We have that in common.” Yara was quick to say.

Daenerys appreciated the woman’s sharp responses. This was someone who knew who she was and what she wanted. She turned to Tyrion. “Will their ships be enough?” She asked him.

“With the former masters’ fleet, possibly.” He shrugged. “Barely.” He turned back to the Greyjoys. “There are more than 100 ships in the Iron Fleet.”

“There are, and Euron is building more.” Theon agreed. “He’s going to offer them to you.”

“So why shouldn’t I wait for him?” Daenerys asked.

“The Iron Fleet isn’t all he’s bringing. He also wants to give you…” Theon hesitated.

Yara sighed. “His big cock, he said. Euron’s offer is also an offer of marriage. You won’t get his ships without giving him your hand. He’ll murder anyone who gets in the way of what he wants. Including you. And he wants all of the Seven Kingdoms.”

Daenerys rolled her eyes. “And what is it you want? Not marriage I assume.”

Yara shrugged, smiling. “I wouldn’t be disappointed. But no, we’d just take our slice.”

“Your ancestors defeated ours and took the Iron Islands.” Theon said. “We ask you to give them back.”

“And that’s all, just your independence from the Seven Kingdoms?” Daenerys asked.

“We’d like you to help us murder our uncle too, no one will be safe on the seas until he meets the Drowned God.” Yara mentioned.

“That sounds reasonable.” Daenerys said with a smirk.

“What if everyone starts demanding their independence?” Tyrion asked her.

“They’re not demanding, they’re asking. Others are free to ask as well.” Daenerys said darkly. “All of us were born to evil men. The created and continued a world where people are beaten, enslaved, and die on another’s whim. I am going to leave the world better than I found it. I will break the wheel and give the smallfolk a voice and women a place at the table. If you choose to follow me, you will become part of that better world. When we win the coming wars, if you have served faithfully and loyally, then we will address the independence of the Iron Islands. You will support my claim as queen of the Seven Kingdoms and respect the integrity of the Seven Kingdoms. That means no more reaving, roving, raiding, or raping.”

“But that’s our way of life.” Yara said shocked.

“No more. I expect my Dothraki to do the same. I will not ask less of you.” Daenerys said, standing in front of Yara now.

Yara turned to Theon, he nodded his head. “No more.” She answered, holding out her arm, palm up.

Daenerys turned back to look at Tyrion. He smiled and nodded. She clasped Yara’s arm in a firm grip. The two smiled deviously at each other. She had made her first alliance in Westeros.

The next few weeks were spent preparing the ships for their journey. The Dothraki would have to man the ships in order to make it work. The Iron Fleet would surround the shaky new sailors as they crossed the Narrow Sea. Despite the combined fleet, Tyrion and Daenerys spent days trying to figure out how to fit everyone onto the ships.

The Dothraki were also getting restless. They had camped outside the city, but their skirmishes were growing louder. Two men, Qhono and Chakko had fought to become leaders among them. Daenerys rode out to meet them, accompanied by Daario. He seemed to be in good spirits, still making jokes and throwing her smoldering looks. Dany hadn’t invited him back to her bed after the night she told him he would not be going to Westeros. He had sulked for a few days, and then tried his best to convince her otherwise. Dany wouldn’t have any of it. She had moved passed it. Her eyes were set westward and her time with the sellsword was over.

Qhono was a tall, intimidating man. He wasn’t large like Drogo had been, but he was covered in scars and his braid was long. Daenerys knew that he was one of the men who captured her all those months ago. Where before he joked about fucking her, now he nodded respectfully. “Khaleesi, the men are nervous, we have never been trapped like we will be on the wooden horses.” He said in clipped Dothraki. “Our journey will take us only a month, Qhono. The Khalasar has travelled much longer than this before.” She responded. He sighed. “We will follow you Khaleesi, we promised before the Mother of Mountains.” Chakko grunted beside him, nodding his head once. Chakko meant “silent” and she had learned from Daario that the older warrior had lost his tongue to a khal he once served. Despite not being able to talk, he was well respected amongst the Dothraki and was loyal to a fault.

Satisfied that Qhono, Chakko, and Daario could get the Dothraki settled down, she made her way back to the Great Pyramid. The Dothraki would be a concern in Westeros. They were wild and determined to go their own way. They had pledged not to pillage and rape, but she had no doubt they would push the boundaries of her rule. She’d have to find somewhere for them on the mainland in between battles. There wouldn’t be enough room for all of them and their women and children on Dragonstone.

Tyrion came running toward her as she approached the Great Pyramid. Watching the man run was interesting, he usually wasn’t prone to urgency. He held a missive in his hand. “Our problems are solved” he panted at her.

“Explain.” She said, amused as he gulped large breaths.

“It’s Varys. He’s allied us with the Martells in Dorne and the Tyrells in the Reach. Both have recently lost family thanks to my mad sister and are angry enough to side with you. Their fleets are on the way with Varys. It’s enough ships for all of your forces. And you now have the backing of half the Seven Kingdoms.” Tyrion said, his smile wide and his eyes shining.

Daenerys returned the smile. In a few days’ time they would board the ships and make their way to Westeros. Finally, it had begun.


	3. Jon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allies reunite. Enemies meet face to face. Battle commences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go! Back to the North to settle a little cliffhanger. ;) Enjoy!

“Robb?” Jon asked again. He couldn’t believe the sight in front of him. The last time he had seen Robb was when he left for Castle Black. Back then Robb had been a boy becoming a man. His eyes were nearly always alight with laughter. His frame was always full because of good food and a warm hearth. Robb was everything that he looked up to, everything he thought a man should be. The Robb standing before them now was a shell of that young man. His hair was long, to his shoulders, his beard had grown out, but it wasn’t well kept. His skin was mottled as if he had been drinking for days. But his eyes were clear, his smile still the same, and Jon knew that he was looking at his brother after life had hit him hard.

“Hello brother. Sansa. Look at you both. Can you believe how long it’s been?” Robb said.

A high-pitched pealing cry echoed from the other side of the table. Sansa mowed down the Mormonts and launched herself at her eldest brother. Robb caught her and held her as sobs wracked her body. A single tear left Robb’s eye as he held his sister close. He opened them and met Jon’s gaze above Sansa’s shoulder. Jon recognized the look in Robb’s face. Guilt. Heartache. He knew that his sister had suffered, and he hadn’t been able to save her. He hadn’t even been able to see her. For the first time Jon thought about what that must have been like for Robb. He was bound at the wall by oaths and honor, but Robb had been free to go to her. He had been in a position of power and strength; he had the name of his family and his birthright behind him. Yet still Robb was unable to find and save his sisters. Sansa stood before them now, a grown woman with trauma in her past, but no one knows what had befallen Arya. Jon doesn’t think about it, the idea of Arya being gone has always sent pain through his heart. Robb was obviously consumed with guilt concerning Sansa, but he bottled up his dark thoughts and pushed Sansa so that she stood before him.

“Sansa, you are so beautiful, and you look so much like Mother.” Robb said with a teary voice. “I know that if she could see you now, she would be so proud of you.”

“Robb, I don’t understand how…how is this possible?” Sansa asked. “Everyone knows you died at the Twins with Mother and your wife. They killed Grey Wind and tied his head to your body. It was the talk of King’s Landing for months; I couldn’t escape it. How? How are you here?”

Jon was wondering the same thing. He looked to Melisandre, but she shook her head. He knew that he was the only one the red priestess had brought back from the dead, but she wasn’t the only servant of Rhollor in Westeros. Also, Jon thought it was unlikely that even magic could undo a severed head. He turned back to Robb who didn’t miss the exchange between him and the priestess. Robb was looking at him with a sense of wonder and Jon thought maybe the rumors of his death and resurrection were reaching beyond Castle Black. But Robb didn’t indicate that he knew anything about that as he spoke.

“Jon, I can’t believe you’re dressed as a Stark soldier. I imagine that this is what it would have been like had you not taken the Black.” Robb said, still staring at his younger brother. “Thank you for this. I know how much your vows meant to you so thank you for helping Sansa and fighting for Winterfell.”

“My watch has ended. It’s a long story, but I am free from my oaths and I feel no guilt leaving Castle Black behind.” Jon surprised himself when he said it. He was always quick to take the blame and guilt for a situation but his was over and he had not broken his vows. “But I do have to ask, how is it possible that you’re here now?”

Robb sighed and his shoulders fell, it seemed to Jon that he even shrunk in stature. “It’s a very long story, one I will tell you in every detail when we have more time. The short version is that the Blackfish saved me from the hall and recently I’ve been at Moat Cailin with Howland Reed. You know he was a great friend of father’s and his children are apparently with Bran, wherever he is. Reed is a strange man, he believes in impossible things, but there is truth in what he says and he’s of sound mind. He has told me many things I wouldn’t have believed before over the last year of my time with him.” Robb stared at Jon and seemed to scan him from hair to toes. It made Jon feel uncomfortable, but he supposed he stared at Robb the same way when he first entered the tent. “A few months ago, Petyr Baelish came through, we watched him from the ramparts. He didn’t see us, that was on purpose, I don’t know how anyone trusts that weasel. And then, about a month ago, the entire calvary of the Vale showed up! Their commander, Lord Royce explained that Petyr Baelish had sent them to fight on behalf of Sansa. After talking with him I decided it was time to come home myself and see what I could do. They were supposed to wait for Baelish’s command, but I confronted him and convinced them to come with me now. I know you must be starting battle soon or you’ll also have to contend with General Winter.”

Jon smiled slightly at the Northerner’s name for the cold weather that was nearly unbearable for southerners. But dread started to fill Jon’s mind. Why would Petyr Baelish bring an entire calvary to the North? And why for Sansa? And most importantly, did Sansa know? She must have been able to see the gears turning in Jon’s head because she turned fully toward him and started reaching for his hand. “…Jon” she whispered. He held up his hand for silence and placed his hands on his hips. Dark rage started to move through his body, and the growling presence in his head started growing louder. Ghost stood from his spot in the corner and moved to be closer, sensing Jon’s building inferno. Lyanna Mormont made a quiet sound as she jumped back from the silent direwolf who was now taller than her. Jon reached out and grasped the scruff on Ghost’s neck and continued to breathe deeply.

“Did you know?” he asked Sansa quietly. She hesitated and moved her hand to her throat in an instinctive defensive gesture. “DID YOU KNOW?” he roared at her.

Sansa flinched and swallowed thickly, nodding her head slightly “Yes, but let me explain please…”

“When did you find out? How long have you known that Petyr Baelish has been at your beck and call with what, thousands of calvary soldiers? Were you that willing to allow the wildlings and Northmen to die for this cause? Please explain this to me Sansa, please explain it to all of us.” Jon gestured to the space behind him. Lyanna Mormont who brought all she could spare, the Mazins who answered without hesitation, Duran Feller of the Hornwoods who had been with her rallying the countryside, and Tormund who had convinced the last of the Free Folk to fight in a nearly impossible battle. All of those people were now looking at Sansa Stark with a mixture of confusion and anger. Robb started to speak, but Jon cut him a look so sharp that his brother immediately went silent and stepped away from Sansa.

“Before I tell you why, I would just like to remind you that we have the same goal. I want Rickon back and I want Winterfell back just as much as you do.” She started, trembling.

“I think you want it more than I do Sansa, and I think you want it for yourself” Jon said to her. He was tired of all of this going unsaid. She was obviously unhappy with his leadership and felt that this was her battle.

“Maybe at the beginning I did. I won’t claim that I don’t want power. Jon, I’ve never had power ever! I have been shipped off, married off, sold off. I have been raped, humiliated, and tortured. I am not the girl who grew up with you in Winterfell. She didn’t understand what it meant to be a woman in Westeros. I do now. If I want to be safe, I have to make myself safe, because no one will do that for me. Father didn’t protect me, Robb didn’t protect me, you didn’t protect me. I was left to suffer and yes, I feel I am owed. But if there’s one person I trust least of all it is Petyr Baelish. Listen to me very carefully. Littlefinger has so many allies in so many places you’ll never be able to catch him if he runs from you. He orchestrates everything behind other people so he can remain hidden. He sold me to the Boltons. He insists he didn’t know about Ramsay, but he knew, he had to know that they were the ones that betrayed Robb to the Lannisters.” Robb flinched at that remark. As if some phantom pain had hit him again. Sansa ignored it as she continued.

“He came and saw me while we were still at Castle Black. I went down to Mole’s Town with Brienne to speak with him. He told me he would give me the Knights of the Vale and he told me about the Blackfish retaking Riverrun. I didn’t accept his help. Trust me, you don’t want to owe anything to Littlefinger. I didn’t want anything to do with him, I was scared of him, and I don’t trust him. I wrote to him a few days ago. I told him I changed my mind and wanted his help. I understand now that it will be so hard to win this without the extra men. I care about the people I met in Winter town and I care about the men here at camp. I don’t want to sacrifice men unnecessarily because I know there are battles yet to come. I also thought it might be better if they were a surprise at the battle. I know that not telling you was stupid, and it seems like I was betraying you, all of you,” Sansa looked around the tent. “But I was scared, and I just need to beat Ramsay, I have to.”

Jon took deep breaths as Sansa explained herself to her commander and his allies. It felt like another knife going in, another betrayal. Would he ever have someone in his life that didn’t betray him, didn’t go around him to make decisions. He resolved to be better about listening to his allies at that moment, not wanting to ever be in this position again of someone feeling like they had to do something without him. He looked up at Sansa. “I want to be very clear Sansa. You have broken faith with me. I don’t trust you, and if you want me to, you’ll have to work hard to regain it. I’ve killed men for less than this, your silence could have gotten us all killed. If you ever do anything like this again, I won’t hesitate. I love you. You’re my sister, and that fact is saving you tonight. I want you to continue doing this work, you’re good at it, you see people and understand their motives, but you can’t do that without telling me anymore. Do we understand each other?”

“Yes. Yes, we do. I am with you,” She turned to Robb, “both of you. I want to help, and I will fix this I promise.”

“Start by going to get Baelish and Lord Royce, they obviously feel a connection to you, we can’t start planning a battle without them.” Jon commanded. Reading his mood, Sansa nodded quickly and practically ran out of the tent.

The rest of the tent was staring at him with something akin to wonder on their faces, he turned to look at Robb who had the same look “What? Was I too harsh with her?”

“No.” Robb answered immediately. “I’m just in awe of how much of a commander you turned out to be. During the war, Mother used to do this sort of thing to me constantly. It would leave me reeling and look weak in front of my men. Honestly, it might be one of the big reasons I was betrayed in the end. I never had the courage to talk to her like you did Sansa, but maybe if I had, things would have gone differently.”

Jon nodded, grateful for Robb’s support. He was still reeling from him standing in front of him. They turned and moved back towards the map on the table. “Sansa sent Brienne of Tarth, her sworn sword, to Riverrun to treat with the Blackfish. You said you spent time with him, that he saved you. Will he send men to us for Sansa?”

Robb’s brow furrowed for a moment as he thought it over while looking down at the map. He finally shook his head. “No, I don’t think we can expect any help from the Riverlands. When I left the Blackfish and started heading North it was right before they went to go take the castle. He’s become driven by one thing, to finish his life there. To him the War of the Five Kings isn’t over, he can’t accept it, or just doesn’t want to. I don’t think he’ll leave Riverrun if he’s actually taken it back, and there’s a good chance he’s fighting the Freys or even the Lannisters trying to keep it.”

“Robb, I can’t even begin to tell you…I’m just so glad you’re here.” Jon said standing next to his brother.

Robb grabbed Jon’s shoulder. “We’ll do this together brother, like we should have done everything else.”

Jon spent the next few minutes introducing Robb to everyone in the tent. He knew the Duran and the Mazin men, they had been under his command. Lyanna was new to him, but he knew Maege, her mother very well and they quickly had a bond. Jon could tell he was slightly terrified of Melisandre, and also very curious as to why she was with them. “Later.” Is all Jon had to say about it. Davos was the most interesting interaction. He had been the hand to Stannis and therefore Robb and he were actually enemies during the War of the Five Kings, but unlike Brienne, Robb was good natured about their shared history. Davos was still cool towards Robb and obviously favored Jon. Surprisingly Robb took this very well and actually nodded at the older man when he made his allegiance clear.

After a while Sansa reentered the tent with two men. One was a large man with a full set of armor covered barely a robe of his House emblems. He looked every inch the military commander and there was no question that this was Lord Yohn Royce, commander of the Knights of the Vale. There was obvious tension between him and the man at his side. The other man was thin with a full head of black hair, streaked with gray. He was dressed in long robes and at this throat holding it together was a mockingbird pin. He looked extremely uncomfortable and out of place in the tent of battle strategy. It was hard not to notice how close Baelish stood to Sansa and she made no move to reposition herself.

“Robb, so good to see you alive and well.” Baelish drawled. “Here I thought we would be mourning the passing of the King in the North forever and you’ve been recuperating all this time.”

“I was stabbed a few times, Littlefinger.” Robb sneered back. Jon didn’t miss Baelish’s flinch at his hated nickname. “Also, I lost my wife, my unborn child, and my mother that night. I think I’m allowed a little recuperation.”

“The greatest sorrow I’ve ever known was at the passing of your mother, she was my friend for so many years. And my sister by law once I married my Lysa.” Baelish responded.

“Yes, I had heard that you’re a widower yourself Lord Baelish, remind us, how did your wife die? I heard it was a dreadful accident.” Davos added to the conversation.

Baelish obviously recognized that he had no friends in the tent besides perhaps Sansa who was still standing ridiculously close to him. Jon sent her a look, but she ignored it and stayed where she was. They stood in a tense silence for a long moment before it was interrupted by Lyanna Mormont. “We do actually have a battle to plan, if you don’t mind.”

“Yes, of course.” Baelish answered. “This isn’t my expertise so Lord Royce will be handling these preparations and perhaps Lady Sansa and I can get caught up.”

Before anyone could say otherwise, the redhead quickly agreed. He looked at Robb and they both looked to Davos. He shrugged with wide eyes. Jon thought it was weird that she was running off with Baelish after just getting verbally reprimanded for making foolish decisions when it came to the man. “I’ll put a few men on it.” Duran said from the side. The man was a bit older and had a few children, and he had taken a liking to Sansa, treating her as a daughter as they had been working together to gather the smallfolk.

Lord Royce approached the table. During all of the commotion someone had added stones symbolizing the Vale forces and Royce picked them up to hold. He looked across the table and practically snarled at Tormund who just grinned back. “Lord Royce, we’re very grateful to have you and your men with us. Your expertise precedes you.” Davos started the conversation.

“I serve the Vale and my Lord Robyn Arryn. He determined that we should come and fight for his cousin Sansa and that is why I am here.” Lord Royce said with more than a little contempt. “Had I known that the bulk of the forces would be wildlings, I might have asked him to reconsider.”

“The Free Folk are here at my invitation. They were let south of the Wall because we have a greater enemy than each other, and when I went looking for allies, they were the first to step up.” Jon said strongly. “If you have a problem with it, I suggest you not voice it in front of me.”

“Of course, Lord Commander Snow, is that even your title anymore? Is there any honor in you Jon Snow?” Lord Royce pressed.

“Seeing as you serve a feeble, mad little boy as your liege lord and let him run amuck, and your other master is a snake in the grass, I don’t think you’re in a position to lecture anyone about honor.” Robb snapped back. “Do you ever get tired of following Robyn’s orders?”

That shut up Lord Royce fast. It was obvious the commander hated Baelish and it sounded like Robyn was a weak excuse for a liege lord. It must be a blow to the man’s pride to have to serve them after being the right hand of one of the most honorable men in Westeros, Jon Arryn.

Tension rising in the room, Jon suggested that they actually talk battle strategy. All of them then bent over the map as Jon explained the current battle strategy. Now that they had a calvary to fall back on, things should be much easier. The plan was to draw Ramsay out for a parley tomorrow. Jon, Sansa, and the rest of their allies without the Vale would go out and meet him. It was their job to rile him up as much as possible so he would bring his forces out of the castle. During the parley, Duran and several other Hornwood men would be snuck into Winterfell by the smallfolk they allied with. The next day, during the battle, Jon would lead the forces of the North and the Free Folk to face Ramsay on the field. Since they would already have control of the castle, Robb and Royce would each take half of the Vale forces and box in the Bolton forces from behind them. The townsfolk and countryside knew what was coming, whispers were already being passed along. That was the most dangerous part, because all it took was one person to go to Ramsay for their plan to be found out. Luckily for them, Ramsay was a cunt to everyone so they were fairly confident that things with the smallfolk would turn out. After running through the battle plan several times and reviewing what needed to be said at the parley the next morning, everyone decided it was time for bed. As Robb turned to leave, Jon grabbed him. “I still want the full story brother.”

“I want yours too. White walkers, Free Folk, and a red priestess?” Robb chuckled and shook his head. “There will be time after we finish this but we both need to be well rested.

Jon nodded as he and Robb stepped out into the cold night seeking their tents and their beds.

***

Jon watched as Ghost weaved in and out of the trees on the side of the path they rode on. He turned and glanced at Sansa as they rode towards Winterfell with their allies. She was in her Stark dress, hair braided, she looked like she was ready to go to war.

“Do you want to tell me what that was with Baelish last night?” Jon asked. “I thought you told me we couldn’t trust him, and he was only out for himself.”

“We can’t and he is. But he won’t help us at all if we don’t feed his ego. There’s only one thing he really wants, me. If I can string him along long enough maybe, we can give him enough rope to hang himself. Baelish has a network and until we control it or break it down, he’s always going to have some sort of power. I don’t know everything he’s done but he’s responsible for a great many terrible things and I’d like to keep him close until I can figure out how to use him.” Sansa reasoned.

Jon looked at his sister. She was strong and determined, but he couldn’t help but be worried with a player like Baelish in the picture. “Just be careful.” Jon started. “And tell me the minute you feel like you’re in over your head with him. He may want you now, but he wants power more.” Sansa nodded in return. “I promise. I won’t let you down again.” She said with a fire blazing in her eyes. “We’re a pack, and I won’t forget it.”

He believed Sansa for now, but she would probably make a few more mistakes with Baelish before his time was up. He was also concerned that with Robb’s return, Sansa has no more claim on Winterfell than he does. Robb is Lord of Winterfell, and will that throw Sansa back into scheming? And would it be smart to allow her to continue to scheme with Baelish? It might be a good idea to gain some eyes and ears himself he thought. They continued on their ride for some time. At a point one of the remaining Hornwoods started singing “the Bear and the Maiden Fair”. Before long the whole company was singing. Tormund didn’t know the words but after a while he caught on to the tune and started singing his own rather raunchy lyrics. Rather than feeling like he was heading to a parley, Jon felt that they were just out for a ride in the country.

All that changed as they crested a hill and he set his sights on a place he hadn’t seen in more than 5 years. Winterfell. The ancient keep had been burned since he lived there but the main structures were there, rebuilt somewhat by the Boltons. They sat down from the castle and watched as Ramsay Bolton and his forces made their way to the parley. This was a crucial part of their plan. Not only did it give Duran and his forces time to sneak into Winterfell, but this also set the tone for tomorrow’s battle. Jon’s job was to essentially piss him off enough to come out with all of his forces. With the look on Ramsay’s face as he rode up to meet them, Jon didn’t think it would be too difficult. Jon suddenly had the thought that maybe this would be too hard for Sansa. He turned to her and said, “You don’t have to be here.” She simply responded by saying “Yes, I do.”

Ramsay Bolton was a similar age to Jon and Robb, and he was not unattractive, but it was obvious that madness had taken its root in the young bastard lord. His blue eyes were just a little too wide, his smile just a little too cheery, he looked crazy. Jon recognized the sigil of Karstark, he had spent much of the last week killing his men on the road to Karhold. Harald Karhold was a younger son that ended up the Lord because his father and brothers had crossed Robb. Jon was sure that if Karstark saw Robb on the battlefield tomorrow he would probably shit his pants. He also was surrounded by rumors of certain proclivities to young boys, Jon was disgusted just looking at him. Smalljon Umber was a different story. He was tall and strapping, an obvious fighter. His father had been loyal to the end to Robb and had died at the red wedding. The rumors coming from the castle staff was that he handed over Rickon and joined Ramsay because Jon had let the Free Folk through the Wall. To Jon, he didn’t think that justified handing over an innocent child. Umber was practically snarling at Jon as they faced each other. Ghost returned the snarl as he stood next to Jon. He could see the fear in Karstark’s eyes as he beheld his direwolf. Jon knew that Ghost was bigger than his siblings, Robb had mentioned the night before that he was even bigger than Grey Wind who had been the largest of their litter.

“My beloved wife,” Ramsay started by looking at Sansa. “I’ve missed you terribly.” Turning to Jon he said, “Thank you for returning Lady Bolton safely. Now, dismount and kneel before me. Surrender your army and proclaim me the true Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. I will pardon you for deserting the Night’s Watch, I will pardon these treasonous lords for betraying my house.” He paused for dramatic effect. Lyanna Mormont looked like she ate something sour and Jon was refraining from rolling his eyes. When it was clear that no one wanted to Ramsay up on his offer, he continued. “Come, bastard, you don’t have the men, you don’t have the horses, and you don’t have Winterfell. Why lead those poor souls into slaughter? There’s no need for a battle. Get off your horse and kneel. I am a man of mercy.”

Jon and Sansa’s faces remained stone cold. Jon was sure Ramsay had the biggest ego of any man he’d ever met. Ramsay incorrectly guessed that he was still affected by being referred to as a bastard. In that brief moment he sent a thank you to Tyrion Lannister of all people. He remembered the advice the imp had given him so long ago “Wear it like armor.” He had said. Obviously, Ramsay had never been taught the same lesson. He knew that Ramsay ruled by fear, he needed to break that hold he had on his allies. “You’re right, there’s no need for a battle.” Jon started. “Thousands of men don’t need to die, only one of us. Let’s end this the old way, you against me.” Out of the corner of his eye Jon could see Sansa look at him after that statement. No one else moved a muscle.

Ramsay started to laugh, chuffing under his breath. “I keep hearing stories about you, bastard. The way people in the North talk about you, you’re the best swordsman who ever walked. Maybe you are that good. Maybe not. I don’t know if I’d beat you, but I know that my army would beat yours. I have five thousand men, you have what? Half that? If even?”

“Aye, you have the numbers. Though they’re dwindling by my count. Apparently, Karstarks and Umbers ran into some trouble with the Free Folk last week. Will the rest of your men want to fight for you when they hear you won’t fight for them?” Jon answered.

Ramsay huffed and pointed at Jon. Karstark and Umber were fuming at his sides. “He’s good, very good, tell me will you let your little brother die because you’re too proud to surrender?”

“How do we know you have him?” Sansa countered.

Ramsay stared at her for a long moment before turning to Umber with a sadistic grin on his face. Smalljon reached into the pack on the side of his horse and extracted its contents. He threw the black direwolf’s head onto the ground between the two parties. Jon and Sansa stared at it for a long moment. Jon looked back up at Umber who grinned at him. Right then Jon decided that Umber would die tomorrow, not for the direwolf but for handing over his brother to this crazy fuck. Umber would die, and it would be by his hand. Ghost whined and moved toward the severed head. He sniffed it and then made to move toward Umber. Jon firmly called him back “Ghost, come.” The white direwolf returned to his side.

“Now if you want to save…” Ramsay began.

“You’re going to die tomorrow Lord Bolton, sleep well.” Sansa interrupted. She turned her horse and galloped back in the direction of camp.

“She’s a fine woman, your sister, I look forward to having her back in my bed.” Ramsay said with another grin. Jon nearly growled at him. The growling presence in his mind demanding that he take action against this enemy, to rip and burn him. “And you’re all fine-looking men,” he spoke to the Stark party. “My dogs are desperate to meet you. I haven’t fed them for seven days. They are ravenous! I wonder what parts of you they’ll try first. Your eyes, your balls! We’ll find out soon enough. In the morning then, bastard.” Ramsay turned will giving a glare to Jon and headed back to Winterfell.

Jon stared after him for a moment, wondering if he had done enough to drag the little shit out from Winterfell tomorrow. The anger he had been feeling for months was back full force. This man had done unspeakable things to his family and to innocent people. A man like that doesn’t deserve to keep living. It was time to put him down like the mad dog he is. His blood was boiling and his desire for battle was making his heart race. He turned his horse and the rest of his allies followed, silently. The look on most of their faces was disgust. He was glad to see none of them showed fear. Ghost returned to Shaggydog’s head and took one more sniff of his long-lost sibling.

He caught up with Sansa just beyond the tree line. He could see that she was trembling but despite that there was a resolute look on her face. She was determined that this would be the end of Ramsay Bolton. Now he was too. They rode back to camp in relative silence, no one sang this time as they made their way. When they arrived, Sansa excused herself and went directly to her tent. Lyanna, and the Hornwood and Mazin men nodded at him and made her way over to the Northmen. Tormund, Jon, and Davos made their way toward the Free Folk. They were met by Dim Dalka, the warg Varleck, and the giant Wun Wun. Tormund gave them a brief summary of the parley including the part where Ramsay refused to fight Jon. When he got to that part all three looked disgusted. It wasn’t in the Free Folk to walk away from an offered fight. They left Tormund there as the Free Folk began to load up their weapons. Jon and Davos made their way over to the Knights of the Vale. They reviewed the parley with Baelish and Royce, the latter of whom looked like he was going to be sick by the lack of decency shown on the part of Ramsay. Jon was sure Yohn Royce would fight Ramsay simply because he was a bastard by birth and Royce seemed to be against anything deemed to be “dishonorable”. To him it was despicable that a bastard, even one legitimized by the crown would be holding the title Warden of the North. Jon had to resist punching the prude in his face.

Finally, they returned to the strategy tent. Jon and Davos rehashed the plans for the next day, and before they were done Melisandre and Robb had joined them. Robb confessed that he sought out Sansa when they all returned and found her sobbing in her tent. Robb told her she didn’t need to be anywhere near the battle tomorrow, she said she’d ride out but not completely to the battlefield. She also wanted Robb to remind Jon to not fall into any trap Ramsay was setting. Jon sighed and shook his head, not knowing what was in store with the crazy cunt. Jon turned to Melisandre and Davos then. “If I don’t make it tomorrow, I don’t want anyone tryin’ anything.”

Davos tried to start “Jon…”

“No. I mean it. If I die, I’m staying dead this time. Do you understand? Both of you?” He looked at both Davos and Melisandre. Both reluctantly nodded their heads. Robb looked confused and was about to ask when Jon simply said, “later.” Robb nodded.

Everyone bade him goodnight and he made his way to his bed. As he laid down, he knew tonight would not be a restful one, not only because of the impending battle, but also because he knew another of his vivid dreams was on the horizon.

Sure enough Jon woke in sweat the next morning. It seemed like every time he had a dream, they became clearer. This time a face with silver hair and purple eyes emerged from the dream. Behind the woman was a line of fire, he could still feel the heat. It was obvious she was naked, but he couldn’t understand why. Her eyes shone with vengeance and justice. He woke hard as a rock with his adrenaline surging.

***

Jon looked out across the field and stared at the force assembled before him. The parley had worked. Ramsay, Umber, and Karstark stood out on the field with all of their forces in front of Winterfell. Five thousand men stood before them out in front of his home. On top of having all of their numbers on the field, Ramsay had also brought his house sigil to life. On either side of the battlefield stood three giant wooden Xs and, on those contraptions, where six people, hung upside down, skinned alive by the look on their faces, and now burning. Jon recognized an older man that had been flayed. He worked in the castle minding the grain storage. On another cross was a woman similar in age to the man, she reminded him of Old Nan. He didn’t recognize her but knew that she must either be from the castle or the village. For a moment, panic set in thinking that Ramsay had discovered their play with the smallfolk. But just then, a flash of light from the battlements hit him. It was one of the Bolton men’s armor glinting in the sunlight as he was taken down from behind.

Varleck made his way down the line to Jon. He started speaking right when a large bird screeched from overhead. “The town is empty. The people there have boarded everything up and are hiding in their homes. The two groups of horses are ready on either side of the castle, hiding in the tree line. They haven’t been spotted yet so there’s a good chance of surprise. All eyes in the castle were turned here until the armored men started to get attacked from inside. Looks like your Northmen are doing their jobs in there. All is where it should be.”

Jon turned to look at the man. “Thank you Varleck, you’ve been invaluable. Let us know if anything changes.”

“Aye.” Varleck returned to his place further down the line.

Jon looked over at Tormund and Wun Wun who stood right next to him. Tormund nodded to him and Wun Wun grunted in his direction. The giant had torn up two trees at some point in the last few weeks and turned them into huge clubs. He held one in each hand, each one looked like it could take out at least five men with one swing. The flags on the battlefield waved in the wind. He looked across his men and saw familiar sigils, Stark, Hornwood, Mazin, and Mormont. Together they would have victory or die together. He could see the trenches they had dug on either side in the distance to prevent a pincher move. That was only going to be if he could convince Ramsay to charge.

Ramsay was dismounting at the head of his retinue when Jon realized what he was holding. He jumped down from his horse to get a better look. Ramsay was leading Rickon by a rope to the center of his line. He took out a knife and for a moment Jon prepared himself to watch Ramsay kill his baby brother. Instead he cut Rickon’s ropes. He placed his hands on Rickon’s shoulders and spoke for a moment before he shoved the boy in Jon’s direction. Ramsay then turned for a bow and quiver of arrows. Panic set in for Jon, there was no other word for it. He signaled Ghost to stay but jumped on his horse determined to meet his brother. The moment he started off, he knew he had made a strategic mistake, but he couldn’t help it. If there was a chance to save Rickon, even a small one, he had to try. The last time he had seen Rickon he was tiny, now a gangly young man ran toward him in a total panic. Arrows struck the ground around him as he ran toward Jon. Jon tried to urge his horse as fast as he could towards his brother, he extended his arm expecting to catch him. Just before he could touch him, an arrow pierced Rickon right through the chest. He collapsed to the ground and took his last breaths just as Jon reached him. Jon looked down at the boy and rage filled him yet again. The growling voice was drowning out any sense left in him. He stared across the field at Ramsay as the anger and pain built to excruciating levels. Just when he was about to charge headfirst into the Bolton forces, his horse bucked beneath him, and turned to run back to the line. Confusion took over as he was looking back at his forces. He could see Tormund leaning over and talking to another wildling. It was Varleck, his eyes a milky white. That’s when he realized what had happened, Tormund had forced him back to the line. Jon saw red. How dare Tormund take this from him? He was just about to scream at him, when Tormund spoke first.

“That boy’s life is over, he’s gone, but you’re not, we’re not, and we need you here.” Tormund said in a rush. “You’re impulsive Snow and we need a commander, not a vengeful son of a bitch.”

Jon took deep gulping breaths and turned to look back at the Bolton forces. Ramsay was obviously fuming. He had expected Jon to charge, wanted him to. Jon hadn’t fallen for the trap thanks to Tormund. The two armies went back to staring at each other, nothing having changed except for Rickon’s body lying in between the two groups. After a few minutes, Ramsay’s patience finally gave out. He gave the order to charge on Jon’s forces. They waited, watching as a thousand horses made their way across the field. When they were more than halfway across the field Jon echoed the command to his forces. The wildlings stayed behind with spears raised toward the oncoming calvary. The two forces met closer to Jon’s side of the field. He had Longclaw extended out beyond him and cut down several men as his horse tore through the other group. The sounds of battle were always horrific, but Jon thought they were amplified with the horses on the field. Screaming as they went down several men were buried under their mounts. All of the sudden his own horse gave a jerk and folded to the ground, taken out by an arrow from above. Ramsay, the fucker, was firing arrows into the melee. Firing them at his own men in the process. It created a sense of chaos on the field as arrows plunged around them.

Now on the ground, off his steed, Jon took a moment to regain his breath. Longclaw in hand he faced mounted horsemen as they came from all directions. He swung his sword and caught a Bolton man at the waist, he fell to the ground and Jon finished him with a slice to the neck. The growling voice inside him was at a dull roar as he turned around looking for more. A huge white blur jumped over him and on top of a Bolton man behind him. Ghost had entered the battle. The gargle from the man told Jon that Ghost had torn his throat out. He went hand to hand with three more enemies before needing to duck from the fucking arrows. He stood up and sliced down another two men that came at him before teaming up with one of his own to take down the final man. Men and horses continued to fall around him. Arrows rained down and the grunts and gore of battle continued to assault him. A part of him felt saddened for the loss of life, but any time he felt guilt, his anger made its way back to the surface. He parried as another man came toward him, narrowly missing the blade and plunged his own sword into his assailant. Bodies were starting to pile up around him when he heard Ramsay scream for a charge once again over the noise. He looked up as Smalljon Umber and his men pushed into the fray. But the last of his men suddenly disappeared from behind him. Jon watched as Lord Royce and half the Knights of the Vale rode straight into the Umber men. Smalljon, shocked by the sudden appearance of the knights screamed in frustration. Their eyes locked over the battlefield, and he drew his sword, charging for Jon.

Jon and Smalljon met in the center of the battlefield, two strong warriors meeting after the tension exploded. Smalljon made his move, screaming as he ran towards Jon. Jon met him face to face, this man who had handed his baby brother over to a monster. The rage consumed Jon. He swung Longclaw harder and faster than he ever had, every blow Umber tried to deliver, Jon blocked. Umber’s blocks were getting weaker and weaker. Smalljon might have had at least a foot on Jon in height, but he didn’t have his stamina, or footwork. Finally, Umber stepped in as their swords met close to their bodies. Umber said menacingly “You fucking bastard, you thought you could just let the wildlings south and we wouldn’t care?” Jon released his left hand from his sword grabbing his knife instead. He shoved his knife into the jugular of the Lord of Last Hearth. Umber fell like a stone. Jon looked up to see the status of the rest of the battle. On the other side of the field, Robb had overtaken Karstark’s forces, and like Jon predicted the lord cowered before his brother, hands in the air and tears on his face. Robb’s forces had surrounded what was left of Karstark’s men, who had already dropped their swords. From behind him two Bolton men came literally flying through the air knocked by Wun Wun’s giant clubs. Tormund fought beside him covered in blood. Jon turned as more Bolton men came at him. Before he knew it, he was surrounded by six enemies. He picked up a discarded sword and started fighting two handed. It took a minute to find a rhythm but before he knew it, the men around him started to fall to both of his blades. That was how Robb found him as he rode in with several of his men. He called to Jon, “Jon! The Boltons are contained, Karstark yielded, but Ramsay’s running back to the castle.”

Sure enough, Jon turned around and saw Ramsay and a few of his men riding away from the battle towards Winterfell. Jon growled and dropped the extra sword. He called for Ghost who immediately was by his side, the wolf was filthy, covered in mud and blood, there was barely a white spot on him. Jon and Ghost started sprinting toward the castle, he felt the ground shake and looked behind him as Wun Wun and Tormund followed. They found Ramsay pounding on the closed doors of the keep screaming at his men to be let in, but they were all gone. Ramsay turned around only for his eyes to take in the savagery before him. He grabbed his bow and quiver and looked directly at Jon.

“You suggested one on one combat, didn’t you?” He sneered. “I’ve reconsidered. I think that sounds like a wonderful idea.” The idea was ludicrous. Ramsay was surrounded by Jon’s forces and his back was literally against the castle doors. Ramsay didn’t have a speck of dirt or blood on him while Jon was covered in filth. Ramsay grabbed an arrow and Jon flung Longclaw to the ground, picking up a discarded shield on the way. Ramsay launched an arrow, and Jon caught it on the shield. Jon continued to advance. Ramsay fired a second on that also landed on the shield, advancing the growling Jon got even stronger as he approached his prey. Now there were three arrows in his shield, and he reached the bastard lord. Jon knocked the bow out of his hands and pounded him in the chest with the shield. Jon followed Ramsay down to the ground. Sitting on top of him, Jon proceeded to beat Ramsay in the face. Every punch got easier as he broke through bone to softer tissue. The growling in his head drowning out all thought as he watched Ramsay Bolton become a pile of bloody mess beneath him. During what had to be the tenth punch or so he looked up to see Robb and Sansa watching him. Robb looked concerned but Sansa, he could tell, this wasn’t his kill. Sansa wanted it, she needed it. Jon stood up calmly from the mess that was Ramsay Bolton and looked around at the forces surrounding him. They were friendly faces. They had won.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving! I wish you all health and safety!!


	4. Daenerys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daenerys and her allies travel across the Narrow Sea. An enemy is lurking nearby. House Targaryen returns to Dragonstone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Wednesday! Enjoy!

It only took a week for Daenerys to realize she never wanted to travel by ship again. Or maybe just not with Tyrion by ship. Every night it was a different drinking game. The latest iteration of his game included asking who would be most likely to do a certain thing and then have to drink one drink for every finger pointed at them. Tyrion would be the one most likely to wake up in a pig pen. Varys would be the most likely to fart during a meeting. Missandei, the most likely to make friends with a fish. It was all amusing until everyone voted her as the most likely to leave a lover in the morning. That sobered her up quickly. Over the past few days she had learned more about her advisors and friends than she’d ever want to know. Then there were the lessons. They might have been worse than the drinking games. Every day she, Tyrion, and Varys would sit in her cabin in front of a map. She would study the houses, words, sigils, and keeps of Westeros until she could identify the smallest strongholds in each kingdom. Missandei had joined them for the first few days of lessons but she stopped coming when Dany got frustrated with her. Missy could do everything. Including memorizing an entire map seemingly overnight. Her excitement grew whenever they looked at a map of the North. Her visions of snow and blue roses in the ice wall pointed towards the largest of the kingdoms. Her heart pounded as Tyrion explained the politics in the harsh country, wondering exactly who she was drawn to there.

They had met the Martell and Tyrell fleets in Volantis, everyone crammed into the ships that made up her fleet until they could stretch out. Daenerys was wary when she first met the Martell women. Ellaria Sand was a gorgeous tall brunette with sun-kissed skin and an alluring gaze. She and Yara had begun flirting almost immediately and Ellaria had insisted on switching to the Greyjoy’s ship for the rest of the journey. Her daughters, called the Sand Snakes were an intimidating trio of warrior women, each favoring a different weapon. Dany had found out from Varys that only one of the three, Tyene was born of Ellaria, but as their father’s paramour, both Obara and Nymeria followed her as if she were their mother. There were five other Sand Snakes back in Dorne, all daughters of the former exuberant prince. They were protecting the current leader in Dorne, Arianne Martell, she was the last of the trueborn Martells, Ellaria had placed her in charge after she killed her father.

During their third week, Dany found herself above deck, looking out over the glassy water taking in deep breaths of salty air. The captain said they were nearing Westeros, maybe a week left. They would arrive at Dragonstone first, per her request. There was nowhere else she would want to make her battle plans from. The captain joined her at the railing. He was a stout man from Braavos with an easy grin and a kind face. “The winds have been kind, Your Grace.” He began.

“I’m glad captain. I find that I’m not much of a seafarer so the shorter the journey, the better.” She chuckled.

He grinned back. “You’re doing fine. I’ve seen much worse when nobility have tried to get their sea legs.” He responded, looking back at the massive fleet. “You’ve got quite the company here. I never thought I would sail side by side with a Greyjoy.”

“Why is that?” Dany responded, curious.

“Well, I don’t have much against this lot here, but Euron Greyjoy…” the captain shivered. “That man is the story we use to scare our children. He’s the captain of The Silence. The ship is massive, easily twice the size of any of our ships. The whole ship is black, save the deck. The deck was painted a dark red, some say from blood, others say it’s to hide the blood. The only color on the visible part of the ship comes from the large gold kraken on the main sail. It’s called The Silence because it moves quietly in the water but also because everyone serving on that ship has had their tongue removed by Euron himself. It’s fast, and it’s vicious. That ship is known from Asshai to Pentos, and no one crosses it. The crew journeys into places no one ever should, and they come back even more terrifying than they were. Pray to the gods we don’t meet him out here.”

Daenerys swallowed hard. “Is there a chance that we would?”

“I don’t think so, the fleet is large enough to ward off even Euron Greyjoy, but with his kin here, you never know.” The captain sent a serious look toward the Greyjoy ships. They sailed on the outside of the convoy, the first to be struck if an attack should come. Just then a roar pierced the sky. She looked up to see Drogon circling high above. He had been following them, but obviously flying off to bed down along the way. He checked in about once every three days, sometimes with his brothers, sometimes alone. She didn’t see Rhaegal and Viserion at the moment. All three had grown larger than ever during their journey. Rhaegal and Viseron obviously enjoying their freedom. She would always feel guilt over their imprisonment below the pyramid, and hoped that they recovered quickly, they were still considerably smaller than Drogon. Her largest son had grown to a point that his shadow covered several ships at once and every time his wings beat, the sails filled completely. His head was now twice as tall as her entire body.

The captain stared up at Drogon in wonder. “It’s a remarkable thing to see dragons flying overhead. Thank you for allowing me to witness it.” He said, nodding and smiling at her as he moved toward the front of the ship.

“You know, the last time I crossed the Narrow Sea, I was in a crate.” Tyrion said as he came to stand beside her. “A literal box. I had to push my shit out through the holes on the sides. It might have been the worst month of my life.” Tyrion sighed and gazed out over the fleet. “I didn’t even have wine. I blame Varys for that part.” Daenerys stared at him as geared up to say more. “I left Westeros because I was tried for Joffrey’s murder. Unfairly, as you know. But when I escaped King’s Landing, I murdered my father. I didn’t have to, it wasn’t self-defense, but I wanted to. I was so tired of all his shit. I was never going to be anything more than “The Imp” because of him.”

“From all reports, your father was an evil man. If you’re worried about me holding you accountable for his death, you don’t have to.” Daenerys said.

“I’m not worried about that.” Tyrion waved his hand at her. “But I am worried that you don’t think much more of me than he did.” Tyrion quickly continued before she could say anything. “I know you have your reservations about me, and you’re probably justified in them, but I only have the best intentions at heart. I think the people of Westeros deserve a leader who wants to do things in their best interest instead of her own. And I believe in you. I want to see this world when you’re done changing it. I made some bad decisions in Meereen, I needed to listen instead of talk, and that’s something I’ll continue to work on. I hope you can find a way to put your faith and trust in me. I have no desire for the throne, honestly, I would not be a good king, I’m too selfish, and too drunk most of the time. But I am very good at advising, at seeing the big picture, and I want to help with that.”

Daenerys could feel her brow furrowing as he spoke. Tyrion was a proud man, but one still desperately trying to prove her worth. She could relate to that. Absolutely. And as a female ruler she would always have to be doing the same thing. “I am concerned, Tyrion. You and Varys, you came out of nowhere shortly after I lost one of my closest advisors. Jorah, a man who had betrayed me for years brought you to me. It’s hard for me to trust those circumstances. Then when I returned to Meereen, I found the city burning and learned that you had reinstituted a practice I had spent years trying to eradicate. Then there’s the issue of your sister. She’s the enemy, and she’s your sister.”

“There is no love lost between Cersei and I.” Tyrion said quickly. Dany held her hand up.

“I know you’ve said that, and I know the reasons you say that. But you have to understand, even at the end, when he threatened to cut my baby from my womb, I still felt an obligation to Viserys.” Dany explained. “Familial ties are the hardest to break.”

“Your Grace, you’re a Targaryen, you’re drawn to your blood more than most. I don’t know if that’s the reason you still felt kindness toward your brother, or maybe I’m just heartless. But I promise you, I want to see my sister away from that throne more than anyone else. Especially after what happened to Tommen.” Tyrion looked pained at the thought. When Varys had written about the alliance with Dorne and the Reach, he had explained the tragedy of the Sept of Baelor. Cersei had used wildfyre to destroy her enemies, using her father’s cache under the city. Tyrion cried for days when he heard that his nephew Tommen had thrown himself from the Red Keep after the death of his wife, Margaery Tyrell. As horrible as Tywin, Cersei, and Joffrey were, Tyrion asserted that both Tommen and Myrcella had been innocent, wonderful people. He hadn’t once spoken to the Sand Snakes or even looked at them since they joined the armada. Daenerys admired his restraint. She’d have to remember it if it came to making alliances with those who betrayed her family.

“Tyrion, I promise you, I value your insight and your help. I even enjoy your company, when we’re not trapped on a boat all the time.” Daenerys smiled at him. “I’m not looking for any other advisors, but I’m not ready to name you Hand of the Queen. Maybe we’ll get there, if I feel that I could trust you to make decisions in my stead.”

Tyrion nodded resigned. “I understand, I hope I can prove myself worthy of your trust. In the meantime, we really should get back to your lessons. It would be an utter disaster if you lost support because you couldn’t remember the names of your bannermen.”

Dany smirked at him and they headed back towards her cabin.

They had been at it for hours and it was dark when they first heard it.

It was the shouts they heard first. Men screaming from ship to ship. And then movement above them. Boots running down the deck. Daenerys ran for the stairs to see what was happening. She walked into hell. Fire balls were zooming towards her ships in the air, launched from large galleys a way off in the distance. She could see the trebuchets as they flung the burning masses of tar into the air. “How many are there?” She screamed at the captain.

“With all the fog and the smoke, it’s impossible to tell Your Grace. The Greyjoys are taking the worst of it on the edge of the fleet.” He roared back.

Daenerys could see the lead ship of her Iron Fleet, commanded by Yara and Theon. They hadn’t been hit by fire yet and were moving into position to intercept the enemy. Commands were being screamed at the ships being sailed by the Dothraki to move away from the battle. The Dothraki by far were the most uncomfortable sailors in the fleet. This was not their element and would be essentially useless, just fodder for the enemy. The escorting ships commanded by the Ironborn were moving into a solid line between the attackers and her armada. Her fleet was purely in defensive mode, not going on the attack at all. It was clear the main goal was to get most of her ships safely out of the area.

“We need to get out of here, and fast!” The captain exclaimed.

“I’m not leaving the fleet!” Dany screamed back at him.

“Listen to me. It’s insane to attack a fleet this large, no one in their right mind would do it. Which tells me two things. One, it’s got to be Euron Greyjoy because he’s the craziest son of a bitch out here.” The captain shouted as they ran towards the captain’s wheel. “And two, he wants something. He has his eyes on one prize and he’s going for it. Whether that’s the Ironborn in your fleet or more likely, you, we have to get out of here before he breaks through.” Just as he finished saying it, a huge crash sounded from the direction of Yara’s ship. She gasped in horror at what she saw. The largest ship she had ever seen had just rammed the Greyjoys on the side. The black ship was nearly invisible in the night. If it wasn’t for the nearby ships on fire, she wouldn’t have been able to see it. The ship was silent in the night, it had obviously taken Yara and Theon by surprise.

The gangplank lowered onto the smaller ship’s deck. Even she could hear the war cry from the huge man then jumped onto the vessel. His axe glinted in the fire as he started hacking at his countrymen. Ironborn soldiers were leaping off the sides into the water to escape as Euron’s men flowed onto their ship. Fire balls continued to rain on the scene. By now most of the fleet had moved away from the battle and out of range of the trebuchets. Abandoning ships that were alight with fire. She could hear the horses screaming on the boats that were burning. Dothraki were leaping into the water, but still hanging on to the hull, not knowing how to swim. Daenerys watched with horror as the Greyjoys did battle on their ship. She had seen battles before but didn’t realize how much worse it could be when confined to a small space. Blood shot up in the air as steel glinted in the fire. The center mast was suddenly struck with a fireball and exploded from the top. The mast collapsed onto the deck of the ship crushing men from both sides of the battle.

“What can we do to help them?” She asked her captain.

“Nothing can be done now, Your Grace.” He said sadly back to her, as he was steering them away from the battle.

All of the sudden a roar pierced the air followed quickly by two more. She looked up through the smoke and saw the flames reflected on the scales of her children. She had never directed them without riding Drogon and she didn’t see how she could possibly mount him from a ship. She felt his mind brush hers as he flew closer to the ship. Daenerys felt Drogon the easiest, they were fully bonded, and she swore she could even feel his emotions. Viserion and Rhaegal were harder to read, but still warm presences in her mind. Drogon read her urgency, her desire to save her men from a grisly and watery fate. He flew low over the water, his tail pulling up water as he zoomed over the surface. He banked to his left and circled her ship, slowing down. She’d only have one chance at this. She stepped up on the railing on the side of the vessel just as she heard Missandei, Greyworm, Tyrion, Varys, and the captain simultaneously yell “No!”

She jumped onto Drogon’s wing and slid down until she hit his torso. It was not a pleasant experience for either of them, or one she’d ever repeat again. She was barely settled in her usual spot, gripping his spikes as he shot back into the air. She almost reprimanded him when she realized her ship was just hit with a projectile that was meant for her. The men on her ship hurried to put out the flames left behind. She watched as her advisors scurried below deck. Greyworm moving to help his men. She had never ridden Drogon during the night for a battle. Everything below her was one color unless it was illuminated by fire. The moon wouldn’t make its’ appearance tonight and the lack of light had left the water below her black. Once she got above the first set of clouds, she and Drogon were met by Rhaegal and Viserion. Her sons’ eyes glowed in the night, and their scales glinted in the starlight. Smoke was rising from the battle below. She could hear the cries of men and horses, the cracking of wood, and the gurgling of sinking ships. She surveyed the scene below her. Eight of her ships were on fire, including the Greyjoy’s vessel currently bound to the huge monstrosity that was The Silence. She understood now why men all across the world feared the ship. It was eerily quiet, other than the battle occurring near the bow of the vessel.

She could see now that Euron’s ship was accompanied by six more warships each equipped with two trebuchets that fired over the side of the ship. It left the ships open to a counterattack because their long side was facing the enemy but allowed for more firepower at one time. It was a risk, one Euron was obviously willing to take. She was sure that he rarely met an enemy that fought back. Daenerys thought it was strange that there were only six, but they were so effective that the pirates didn’t need any more. Her own ships were firing back at half the speed and their bolts weren’t reaching far enough, mainly due to their retreat. The firing warships from Euron’s flotilla weren’t moving, possibly even anchored. She guided Drogon toward the closest of the warships. The crew was mainly mangy, dirty men. They were all facing towards their targets, cackling with glee anytime they hit their enemy. Many of them were shouting about pillaging ships and raping any woman they found. There were several shouts about a “silver cunt” that she figured were about her. The snarling dragon inside her roared to life. Drogon responded to her anger, his fire burning bright ready to be free. Daenerys guided Drogon behind the men and commanded “Dracarys!” Drogon’s flames burst out of his mouth toward the ship. Men screamed while the wood buckled and burned. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Rhaegal and Viseron attack the next ship, using the same tactic. The other four crews started shouting into the night, dousing all of their flames, and started to pull away. They blew signal horns at The Silence as they moved away from the dragons.

Daenerys heard a great wrenching sound and turned to see The Silence pulling back from the smaller Greyjoy ship. What was left of it couldn’t even be called a ship, just a mass of burning wood barely floating on the surface. Blood dripped on every inch of the wreck and bodies were strewn haphazardly. She could barely make out a body hanging from a rope before she turned her attention to the monstrous ship. There was movement but no sound except for Euron Greyjoy who was barking out orders to his crew. She looked down at the deck preparing to set it alight. Viserion and Rhaegal had joined her for this final assault. As she looked through the sails to the surface of the ship, she saw a large irregular object. It was shaped like a cone and was dark in color. The object seemed to glow in the fire from Yara’s ship and metal glinted up at her. She could barely make out ancient Valyrian on it. Suddenly, she felt as if she were in grave danger. Tension built to an excruciating level in her head. She heard Euron’s order screamed at a deckhand “NOW! DO IT NOW OR I KILL YOU ALL!” He raved. She watched as a nervous man stepped up to the cone’s point and put his mouth on the tip. The world moved to slow motion. Viserion had completed a dive and was accelerating hard toward the clouds, but Rhaegal was coming into the ship from the front. She knew what was going to happen a second before it did. The man on the deck blew air into the cone or horn rather and her head exploded in pain. Water moved out in a wave from the ship and slammed into everything in its path.

The sound was indescribable, something she would imagine to be the combination of a thousand screams. It was unnatural, sorcerous, and wicked. Her bones rattled and it felt like her brain melted. She felt her vision go black and blood run down her face, leaking from her ears, nose, eyes, and mouth. Her grip on Drogon slackened as her mind was rent in two. Drogon bucked beneath her and flapped his wings harder than he ever had. Only pure survival instinct kept her upright. Viserion screeched from above her whimpering like an injured dog, shaking his head violently back and forth. Drogon continued to rise in the air, she tried reaching out to him, but her mind was cloudy, their connection blurred. Then she looked at Rhaegal. Her green son had taken the brunt of the dragon horn blast. He was moving fast but uncoordinated. His eyes were unseeing, and his head was moving side to side quickly. He turned his sights to her fleet who were trying to flee quickly into the night. She leaned into Drogon urging him to follow Rhaegal, to slow him down, to calm him. Drogon wasn’t present in her mind, all she had to use was the grip of her thighs and her hold on his spikes. Rhaegal turned on Drogon when he got close. The two dragons went for each other’s necks in a brutal display of aggression. Dany finally lost her feeble grip on Drogon, there was no strength left in her limbs. Her heart started to pound as she dropped away from the warring dragons. She was falling headfirst into the black abyss of the sea below her. Even if she survived the fall, she wouldn’t survive the cold water. Panic took her as the world was consumed in black, her brain giving in to the freefall. Abruptly, right before she hit the water, she felt something warm and hard wrap around her body. Her breath exploded out of her lungs and she felt several of her ribs crack. A large talon speared her side, slipping through the crushed bones. She looked up to see the ivory scales of Viserion above her. She couldn’t feel his warm mind in hers, she couldn’t feel anything. Daenerys watched helplessly as he soared toward her ship. The last thing she saw was the panicked faces of Missandei and Greyworm as Viserion deposited her onto the deck. The last thing she heard was the terrifying screeching of battling dragons.

***

Daenerys slowly came to on her pillowy bed. For a moment she didn’t know where she was, but the soft rocking of the room confirmed that she was still on board her ship. Her head was pounding, her eyes throbbing from the blood racing through her arteries. She groaned and tried to move, but immediately all breath left her body with the sharp pain that stabbed her in her left side. Immediately Missandei’s beautiful face filled her vision. Dany tried to speak, but her throat was parched. Missy grabbed a cup of water and put it to her lips. She gulped down the fresh water greedily.

“Your Grace, I was beginning to think we’d lost you forever.” She said tearfully. “It’s been three days.”

Dany swallowed hard and nodded slowly. “I’m sorry Missandei. The captain warned me that Euron would’ve only attacked if he had a purpose. Apparently, it was to gain control of my dragons. He had a dragon horn. I thought they were all lost in the Doom.”

“That’s what Tyrion guessed when we saw everything happen. And heard it. It’s a sound I’ll never forget, the sound of hell itself if I could guess.” Missandei shuddered.

“It’s one I won’t forget either, my friend.” Dany whispered back. She had to ask, but she was afraid, so afraid of the answer. “Missandei…what happened to them? Drogon and Viseron? Rhaegal?”

A look of sorrow crossed her translator’s face and Dany’s heart clenched. Whatever it was, it was bad. “Rhaegal appeared to be affected the worse, he went…mad, there’s no other word for it. Drogon met him in the air and that’s when you fell. We thought for sure that was it, we had seen the end of you when Viseron came out of nowhere and grabbed you. He dropped you off on the deck and went back to the others. Rhaegal had broken away and started burning everything in sight. He took down seven ships before his brothers finally corralled him. We don't know where they went, but the last time they were spotted, Drogon and Viserion were chasing Rhaegal off.”

Daenerys closed her eyes and leaned back into the pillows. She just lay for a long moment, letting the information sink in. Rhaegal, her fiercest child, the best hunter. Where Viserion was gentle at heart, and Drogon was a temperamental brute, Rhaegal was intelligent and calculating. She let tears come to her eyes for her wayward son. She turned to look at her friend. Missandei looked miserable and tired. “Have you been awake all this time?” She asked her.

“I was afraid if I slept, that you would slip away.” Missandei lowered her head, her brow tense.

“Thank you for being so diligent my friend, but I’m on the mend. Seek your bed, please. I won’t forgive myself if you fall ill.” She told her friend kindly.

“I’ll send for Lord Tyrion.” Missandei said as she stood up.

That made Daenerys groan. Missandei turned quickly back to her. Dany just smiled. “I was hoping to go a little longer without a lecture.” She said. Missandei’s eyes hardened in a way Dany had never seen before. “You could do with a lecture, Your Grace. What would we do without you?” That made Dany instantly ashamed and she frowned. “You’re right, I’m sorry Missy, I just didn’t know what else to do.” Missandei nodded and stepped out the door.

Dany tried to reach her mind out to feel her sons, but nothing was there. There was no warm presence, no reassurance, no affection. She tried not to panic and focused on herself instead. She felt alongside her left side. Her entire abdomen had been wrapped in bandages but there was more right around where she knew the puncture wound was. Viseron had saved her life, but only by digging a talon in deep. “The sailors assure me it’s not fatal, but as soon as we dock, I want you seen by a maester or at least a Dothraki healer.” Tyrion said from the doorway.

She was right about the lecture. Tyrion was practically fuming, and she could feel it coming. “The first thing I’m going to say is I’m glad you’re alright. I want that out of the way before I tell you what else I have to say.” Dany resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Your Grace, you are the reason we are all here. You are the reason the Dothraki got on ships and crossed the poisoned water. You are the great hope for Westeros. The only answer to my mad sister. So, you do NOT get to take chances with your life. Do you understand me? Because those dragons will reign terror if something happens to you. The Dothraki will be rudderless without you. You took responsibility for this army, for these people, so you have to stay alive. Are we clear?”

Daenerys looked at the small man. He may have said that it was all about everyone else, but she sensed this was just as much about him too. “I understand,” she said quietly. “I’ll be more careful, I promise. Now I need you to tell me what happened and where we’re at.”

Tyrion went to the sideboard and poured her another cup of water and a goblet of wine for himself. “I’ll start with the losses. Between Euron’s flotilla and Rhaegal’s rampage, we lost fifteen ships. Most of the men were recovered from Rhaegal’s attack, they jumped into the water, but we lost all the horses in those vessels.” He sighed. “Honestly, it could have been worse, much worse. Our captain was right, Euron Greyjoy obviously had a purpose for attacking our fleet. That purpose was the dragons of course, but also the Martells.” She looked at him confused. “It appears that Euron is seeking favor with my sister. I told you that Ellaria and those three Sand Snakes were responsible for Myrcella’s death.” She nodded. “Cersei will want them dead, and she’ll want to make them suffer. Euron killed Obara and Nymeria. They were found killed by their own weapons.” She gulped. She knew then that it was Nymeria’s body she saw hanging on the wrecked ship, hanging from her own whip. “He took Ellaria and Tyene. Most likely as tribute to my sister. The dragon horn I don’t think worked as well as he wanted it to.” She raised her eyebrows at that. “I know, but Rhaegal took the brunt of the blast and Viserion and Drogon, though rattled, still managed to save you and corral their brother.”

“I can’t feel them, Tyrion. I’ve always been able to feel them, but my head, it feels like mush.” Dany confessed.

“Let’s hope it’s temporary.” Tyrion said sadly. “There’s more. He also took Yara. I don’t know why, other than to maybe rile us all up, and change the allegiance of the Ironborn. Theon survived. He was found in the water but hasn’t said a word other than to assure us he’d keep the Ironborn with us until we reach land. That should be in about two days’ time. Everyone is on edge. He could come back at any time, though I doubt he will. He got what he needed for now.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that he’s out there. With a dragon horn. For now, we don’t know if I’ll be able to reconnect with my children, we don’t even know where they are. For the rest of our wars we’ll always be peaking around the corner waiting to see if he’s there. There’s no way to tell where he is.” Dany shuddered. “When the Greyjoys asked me to kill their uncle, this is not what I imagined.”

“Yes, well obviously him being a frightening bedtime story to young children across the world was something they forgot to mention.” Tyrion said with an eye roll. “We need to discuss something else before I leave you to rest. We need to find a place for the Dothraki. We won’t have the space on Dragonstone for them, and with Euron gods know where, it would be prudent to set them up on the mainland now, rather than later.”

“I had the same thought before we left. It was always my plan to find them a place there, so we didn’t have to ship them around as much.” Dany confessed.

“I think we should send them to the Crownlands. Near Rook’s Rest.” Tyrion suggested. Daenerys wracked her mottled brain. Rook’s Rest, House Staunton, close allies to her family and they despise the Lannisters. “The current lord is a benevolent man, Ronas Staunton. He has a young family with an extremely beautiful wife. Which is mainly why they stay away from court.” Dany looked at him like he was crazy. “Beautiful women get noticed, and with Robert Baratheon, it got their husbands killed.”

“He might be a benevolent man, but will he really allow 100,000 Dothraki to settle in his foothills?” She asked skeptically. “That’s a tall order for anyone.”

“I thought you were requiring them to give up raiding and raping.” He said to her. “I am,” she answered. “But I have a feeling it will be hard to enforce. You need to speak with Qhono and Chakko. They’re the leaders amongst the screamers. Missandei will help translate. We’ll also need to send some Westerosi with them for good faith.”

“I’ll send a raven ahead and send some of the Tyrell men with them. They should be able to smooth things over.” Tyrion said, nodding.

“Thank you, Tyrion. I know we left things in an awkward place a few days ago and I appreciate your help with this.” Dany told him. “I’m here to serve, Your Grace.” He answered caustically.

“Then would you mind getting some milk of the poppy while you’re at it?” She asked him. He chuckled and went to get Missandei. Her friend entered and gave her the medicine. Dany smiled at her gratefully as she drifted off to sleep.

***

Daenerys couldn’t breathe as she saw Dragonstone for the first time. It might have been because her wounds were once again wrapped tight, and now constricted under the heavy dress. She was grateful for the extra layers seeing as it was much colder here than in Essos. Her entire wardrobe had been reinvented thanks to Missandei. Gone were the midriff bearing, light dresses in favor of darker and heavier fabric. Her current ensemble was black with veins of red and silver running in patterns that echoed dragon scales. At her shoulder was a broach consisting of three dragon heads. Her feet were shoved into large heavy boots. The only part of her skin that even touched the outside air was her face and hands. Her men had undergone a similar refashioning. The Unsullied now wore uniforms with quilted sleeves and the Dothraki had been covered in fur the last time she had seen them. Their ships broke away from the main fleet a few hours before, heading towards their destination on the mainland.

Her heart ached as she looked at her homeland. She had hoped to fly over the keep getting a good look at the layout and look for any damage that might be present. That wouldn’t be happening today, or maybe anytime soon. No one had seen or heard her dragons since the battle. She still couldn’t feel them either, her headaches were still frequent and painful. Tyrion was hopeful the maesters of Dragonstone would still be present and would be able to help her. She wasn’t sure if they were. The castle was silent as they approached. It seemed to be waiting for her just as long as she had for it. The sight was astounding, the building unlike anything she had ever seen. She knew from her studies that her ancestors had built Dragonstone using Valyrian techniques and dragon fire. The result was a castle that seemed to be made from one slab of stone. The edges were sharp and smooth, with no hint of individual bricks. It was also pure black. Birds flew around the keep, landing occasionally, diving into the water for their prey, but there was no trace of human life from the outside. There was a sense of foreboding here, as if the ghosts of her ancestors still held court. Tyrion had informed her that Stannis Baratheon was the last person to take up residence here. She burned inside when he said that. Dragonstone was no place for a stag.

She insisted that she be the first to step foot on the island that gave her life, and there was no argument amongst her company. If anything, everyone looked a little wary. As she stepped onto the beach, she noted the strange formation of the rocks. Black and a dark red, it seemed as if House Targaryen had claimed everything about this island. Her advisors and Unsullied followed her to the massive gates framed by two dragon heads. Varys had been the one to tell her that nearly everything in the castle was a tribute to her house’s sigil. She didn’t tell him that it wasn’t the sigil they were paying tribute to, but the real dragons themselves. The party moved quietly up the walkway between the beach’s gate and the keep. It was an astounding view with the sea on either side. No one spoke, everyone seemed to realize what a transcendent experience this was for their queen. She felt as if her entire life had led up to this walk.

The castle was darker than she’d imagined. The black walls seemed to absorb any light that entered. As she entered the main hall, anger stirred in her belly as she recognized Stannis Baratheon’s banners hanging from the towering ceilings. The gold banner with the burning heart and black stag did not belong in her family’s halls. Daenerys ripped down one large banner from the wall, behind it she saw something fascinating. The walls were carved with scenes of her family. She recognized Aegon’s conquest and the dance of dragons, her ancestors’ faces carved deep into the smooth back stone. She heard gasps behind her as her company also saw the beautiful artwork. The first thing Dany would have the Unsullied do is take down all mentions of Stannis Baratheon. The party approached a set of large doors with handles shaped like dragons. Her guards pushed open the doors, spears at the ready, pointed toward any possible assailant. The great hall of Dragonstone was revealed. Light poured in through the high windows and rested upon her family’s ancestral throne. It was breathtaking. She spent a few minutes wandering the room before she had a thought. There was one place in Dragonstone she was dying to see.

Her advisors and guards still remained silent. So did she. There was no need for words. She retreated into the main hall and looked to the staircase. It was beautiful and intricate, shaped like a dragon’s tail. She climbed to the top of the tower, toward the most famous chamber in all of Westeros. At the top, windows were positioned to give her a look out to sea and back to the mainland. Wind whistled through the chamber. The walls here were also carved but showed only dragons. The room was dominated by one thing. The painted table was bigger than she’d imagined. It was an exact replica of Westeros, complete with mountains and rivers. Boundaries were painted as well as keeps. It was beautiful. She walked to the space where Dragonstone belonged. Sure enough, the legends were true, the floor was raised just enough here that she could see all of the Seven Kingdoms stretched out before her, waiting for the next Targaryen conqueror.

She turned to her allies and friends. “Call our banners. It’s time to begin.”


	5. Jon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the battle for Winterfell. Secrets and confessions come to light. A leader in the North is selected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to the North! I hope this brightens up your Wednesday. As always, comments are appreciated. 
> 
> I'm so grateful for all of you who have left your thoughts already, it really helps to have the feedback!
> 
> Have an excellent week!

Jon still couldn’t quite believe that they’d won, and so decisively too. Once the two primary forces met in the middle, Ramsay had continued to fire arrows into the battle, which he knew of course because he was on the field. What he didn’t know was that was a breaking point for many of his men. Several of them dropped their bows and started to head back to the castle. When Robb’s forces came around from the back, many of the soldiers simply put their hands up and backed against the castle walls. Many of the men started to whisper about the commander of the calvary. The Bolton forces had fought with the Starks up until the Twins so they knew Robb. There were several of the more superstitious men who immediately knelt in prayer when they saw the assumed-dead leader. Robb continued forward and captured the Karstark side of the field. Karstark and most of his men surrendered. The men were now with the rest of the surrendered forces but Harald Karstark himself was in chains next to Ramsay. Davos didn’t even have to enter the fray and therefore many of the Free Folk were spared. Jon was grateful because they were the last of their people. All told, Ramsay lost about half his force to death, while the Stark’s army lost nearly a thousand men. Even though the numbers were smaller than the Bolton force, Jon still felt the weight of a thousand souls on his conscience. The sacrifice was one he’d never forget and swore that he would live worthy of it.

When the castle doors finally opened the smiling faces of Duran Feller and his Hornwood men met them. They had taken the castle nearly right after Ramsay left for the battle. Most of the men didn’t put up a fight, especially once they saw the castle workers fighting alongside the Hornwoods. Those Bolton men who did put up a fight met the sword. By the time the battle was won, and the gates opened, the Bolton banners were gone, and Stark banners once again graced the walls. Jon and Robb took a moment to wash up before helping organize the aftermath of the battle. Jon emerged into the courtyard right as a few men were carrying Rickon’s body in from the field. Robb and Sansa met him at their brother’s body. Neither Robb nor Sansa saw Rickon’s fall but Davos had told them both what happened. Robb placed his hand on Jon’s shoulder. “You did everything you could for him Jon, we know that, and so does he.”

“I wish he could be with us now,“ Sansa said. “But we all knew it was a long shot he would live through this. He was a trueborn son of Ned Stark. There’s a reason he was in hiding all these years. Ramsay never would have let him live.”

Jon nodded, he understood but she didn’t see Rickon with a panicked look on his face as he ran towards him. She didn’t understand how close he was to reaching their little brother. Jon would always and forever feel guilty he couldn’t save him from this fate. “We’ll bury him in the crypts next to our father.” He told one of the men carrying the stretcher. Both Sansa and Robb nodded at his side.

“Jon.” Sansa said. He turned to look at his sister. “Where is he?” He knew she was asking about Ramsay; he knew the look in her eyes. She needed to be the reason Ramsay Bolton left this world. He couldn’t find it in him to deny her.

“He’s in the kennels. Choose something slow, you’ll enjoy it more.” Jon said to her. Robb looked between them, shocked at her desire to kill her husband. Maybe shocked at them both for their behavior. Jon didn’t care, he was beyond caring what happened to Ramsay Bolton. “I’m going out to the field; the bodies need to be burned. We can’t take any chances.”

“I’ll come with you,” said Robb. Jon nodded to him. The pair started off towards the bloody battlefield.

“You were quite the sight you know, on that battlefield.” Robb said to him.

“What do you mean?” Jon asked, confused.

Robb chuckled back at him. “Covered in grime to the point that all I could see was the whites of your eyes and teeth, full berserker mode as you mowed down anyone that came near you. You looked like the Warrior in human form. Where the fuck did you learn to fight with two swords at once?”

Jon just shrugged, “It just happened, heat of the battle and all that.”

Many of the men had already been sorted into areas. Stark men, Free Folk, Boltons, Umbers, it didn’t matter their allegiance now as they all laid together on a field of blood and mud. Jon looked around and just felt tired. His anger had evaporated and the growling voice in his mind was finally quiet. It should be abated by now by his count he had single handedly killed at least thirty men on the field today. His rage had been absolute after watching Rickon die in front of him. Now looking at the field he realized that it might be a miracle that he even survived. Robb sighed beside him as they surveyed the field that they had played in as children. The field that laid before their home that was now a pit of mud and bodies.

“I never get used to this. The aftermath of a battle. The smells, the cries. I first met my wife Talisa after a battle. She was treating the wounded of both sides.” Robb shook his head and smiled at the thought. “I still can remember her chastising me for how we treated the Lannister soldiers.”

Jon turned to look at Robb, he seemed to be a husk of what he once was, but he could see some of the old spark when he talked about his wife. “I’m sorry about them. I don’t think I’ve said that yet, but I’m so sorry that you had to go through it. I lost the woman I loved too, and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.”

Robb looked at Jon curiously. “Jon, how is it you took the Black but you’re here, not in the Watch, you had a lover, and you’re friends with the wildlings?” He chuckled. “It has to be the most controversial career of any Lord Commander in the history of Westeros.”

“I think you’d be surprised,” Jon smiled back at him. “I was the 998 th and there’s some weird stories about the other ones.”

“Jon, we need to talk, not just about our pasts but also our futures. I know that Sansa is expecting certain things, but I have my own expectations and truths that will change everything.”

Jon nodded, “we will. Tomorrow maybe? I know Sansa is insisting on a celebratory feast for everyone tonight. I don’t think it would be a good idea to have this conversation while we’re in our cups.”

“Fair enough,” Robb responded.

For the next few hours Jon and Robb worked with the rest of the men to build pyres. The names of the dead were collected to the best of their abilities before they burned them. The smoke rose high into the air in front of Winterfell. I gave Jon a chill to think that there may be fires burning here for another battle, one for all humanity in just a few months’ time. He needed to have that conversation with Robb as well. Robb would be Lord of Winterfell and it would be his responsibility to help prepare the North. They made their way back inside passing the surrendered men as they did. Another thing they would have to deal with going forward. Jon looked up as Davos walked determinedly towards them.

“I need to speak with you. Now.” Davos said, obviously upset. He turned and marched back into the keep. The brothers looked at each other and shrugged. Jon and Robb followed Davos to the Great Hall. Melisandre was standing near the head table. Davos tossed something to her. She caught it but froze when she realized what she held. Jon was confused by the entire interaction.

“What is that?” Jon asked Davos.

Davos turned to the red priestess and demanded “Tell him.” Jon had never seen Melisandre look so uncomfortable.

“This belonged to Princess Shireen, Stannis’s daughter.” She said, trembling.

“Tell him what you did to her!” Davos roared.

“We burned her at the stake…the army was trapped, and the horses were dying, it was the only way, my Lord commanded it!” Melisandre exclaimed.

“You burned a little girl alive! If your lord tells you to burn little girls alive, he is evil!” Davos responded.

“We are only here because of him. Jon Snow is alive because of the Lord of Light!” Melisandre said, Jon didn’t say a word. Ever since his resurrection the anger and growling voice growing inside him has scared him. Could this be evil magic, blood magic? Could he be the product of some evil spell?

“I loved that girl as if she were my own and you killed her!” Davos’s eyes were filled with tears.

“So did her father. So did her mother. Her own blood condoned it!” Melisandre said, desperate.

“For what? The whole army died anyway. Stannis is dead and gone despite you claiming he had some divine purpose, a purpose you convinced him existed. And you lied and deceived all of them.” Davos accused.

“I didn’t do it on purpose! I did think he was the Prince that was Promised, but I was wrong.” Melisandre said defeatedly.

“Aye, and how many have died because you were wrong?” Davos asked. He turned to Jon. “I ask your leave to execute this woman for murder!”

Jon turned to Melisandre, he’s not oblivious to the fact that she thinks he is now the Prince that was Promised. She follows him around and is constantly staring at him, looking to him for every decision. It makes him weak to think that he could end up like Stannis. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?” He asked her.

“You know what is coming for us all Jon Snow. You’ve seen the Night King and faced his forces. The Long Night is coming, and I believe you are the one to lead us through the darkness. I can help you win this war.” Melisandre said desperately.

Jon looked at Robb, whose face was filled with questions, but still with that curious scanning look that he’d been giving him since he arrived. Almost like he was looking for something in Jon. He couldn’t bring himself to kill her, she was the reason he was still breathing, and he sensed that she was important in the coming wars too. But he also recognized that Shireen deserved some justice. Jon turned back to the priestess “Ride south today. If you return to the North, I’ll have you hanged as a murderer.”

“If you ever come back this way, I will execute you myself.” Davos said angrily.

A short while later he was watching Melisandre leave from the ramparts when Sansa joined him. “Robb’s already preparing rooms,” she said. “He’s preparing the Lord’s chamber for you.”

“Why the fuck is he doing that? He’s the Lord of Winterfell, those are his rooms!!” Jon practically screamed at her.

“I don’t know, I asked him the same thing, but he just said, ‘all will be revealed’. Really creepily actually. I don’t know what’s going on with him. But he told me you both are sitting down for a meeting tomorrow and I’m invited. Do you think he’s gone mad?” Sansa asked half seriously.

“I don’t know,” Jon said chuckling.

“Also, we received a raven from the south. House Frey and House Lannister took back Riverrun and the Blackfish was killed in the process.” Sansa said, Jon tried to interject, but she waved him off. “That’s not the most important part. When they had their celebratory feast, the Lannisters had already left and Walder Frey got up to congratulate his men and gave some weird speech. After they drank a toast, all the men died of poisoning. Then Walder Frey pulled off his face and turned into a woman!! She turned to Frey’s newest wife and said, ‘Winter came for house Frey’.” His face must have been shell shocked because she continued. “I know! It sounds crazy, but so does your coming back from the dead!”

“Have you told Robb yet?” Jon asked her.

“No. I figured we could do it together. Plus, there’s the added mystery of who is the woman? Why would she use our house words? Even if it isn’t true it puts a huge target on our backs Jon.” Sansa concluded.

“This is too much to try and process today, we’ll figure it out tomorrow when we have our big talk with Robb.” Jon said. “One thing’s for sure though, that story is creepy enough to keep me from the celebratory feast tonight.”

***

“Winter came for House Frey?” Robb asked. “That’s what he said after he pulled off his own face and became a woman?” Robb’s face was filled with confusion.

Sansa looked uncomfortable as she and Jon nodded. “That’s what the raven said, I have it here if you want to read it.” She said, pushing the pieces of parchment towards Robb. Robb for his part looked shocked and was taking a giant swig of ale. Jon didn’t know how he’d handle the news if the people responsible for the deaths of his wife, unborn child, and mother had all been slaughtered by some magical person that claimed vengeance with their house words.

Robb just stared down at the table, brow furrowed. “I’ve come to understand that there are things in this world that we don’t understand. I'm less concerned about the magic honestly, and more concerned about the claim that makes it look like we did this.” Robb looked up at them. “The last thing we need right now is more enemies.”

“I don’t really think that anyone cares that the Frey’s are gone. They were always joked about; everyone knew they were the lap dogs of the Lannisters. The entire court despised them. Even if they were in favor of your downfall, violating guest right was despicable.” Sansa said. Her eyes moving back and forth as if taking a tally in her head of who has what opinion in the matter. Jon was astounded that she had memories of those ridiculous people in court. He would never ask her to suffer her life again, but he was grateful that going forward, they would all be more knowledgeable about who in Westeros were friends or enemies.

Silence fell between the three siblings. The feast last night had become so rowdy that despite Jon’s intention to skip it, Tormund drug him into the Great Hall for a few cups of ale. At least Tormund hadn’t convinced him to start on the goat’s milk. Robb had been hooked into trying it by Bigrim, one of the wildlings who insisted that Robb didn’t have a cock if he couldn’t hold the milk. Jon had tried to persuade Robb not to do it but sitting across from his disheveled and red-eyed brother, it was obvious Robb had walked into that particular trap. Sansa had been at the feast but like him didn’t celebrate too much, spending most of the night listening to Duran’s account of the siege of Winterfell. Now all three of them sat in what was now his solar, with the intention of trading their life stories. Jon was still confused as to why he was given the Lord’s chambers but every time he tried to give them to Robb, he was waved off.

Robb inhaled audibly and stretched out his back. He turned to them and asked. “Okay, who wants to go first? I want to get it all on the table, so everyone knows everything they need to go forward.”

Sansa scoffed and rolled her eyes. “What exactly do you want to know? My life has been a miserable pile of shit since we all left here, and if I had it my way, I’d never leave these walls again.” Robb leaned forward, as if about to interrupt her. “No,” she said. “I’m serious, with Cersei in the south you won’t get me to leave this castle. Not until she’s gone. It’s not an overreaction. She’s ruined all of our lives and gets worse continually.”

Robb nodded. “Is there anyone in the south that you do trust, who was good to you?”

Sansa stopped and thought for a long moment. “The Tyrells were always good to me, but I’m not foolish. They wouldn’t sacrifice themselves on my behalf. Tyrion, despite being a Lannister, was good to me while we were married.” Both brothers flinched at the reminder. “But seriously, he never touched me, and did his best to protect me from his crazy family. Varys was the one to watch out for. You never know where his loyalties lie, it switches on a whim. While he’s not as devious as Baelish, because I genuinely don’t think he wants the throne, he’ll betray anyone if they cross in his path. And then Littlefinger, I can’t prove anything, but I have a sneaking suspicion he’s responsible for way more than anyone gives him credit for. The time we spent together at the Eyrie was informative. He pushed Aunt Lysa through the moon door, and he can say it was in my defense all he wants, but he had her subdued before he did it. I lied for him because I didn’t have much of a choice, but he definitely murdered her. I also know he was obsessed with Mother.”

“He’s obviously attached to you now as well.” Robb said, his hand was on his chin and he was looking thoughtfully at his sister. “Can you stick close to him and see what you can find out? I don’t like the idea, but he’s always been squirrely around me, and I would bet he’ll be the same with Jon. Maybe it would be a good idea to distance yourself from us publicly, so he trusts you more.”

Jon did not like this idea. “We finally found each other, we’re finally back home, and you want her to pretend she doesn’t want us around? That leaves her unprotected with a man we’ve already determined is really dangerous.”

“I’ll keep the maids close. I know most of them very well now, and they’ll help me if I need it. Baelish will be more aware of their presence than Ramsay was, but I think we can pull it off with their help. It won’t be hard to convince him that I’m upset or jealous of you two, he looks for that kind of thing. It’s a weakness he would definitely expose.” Sansa contended.

“Fine, but while we’re speaking of what our relationships look like to others, Robb can you explain why you insisted I have this room? You’re the damn Lord of Winterfell.” Jon said angrily at his brother.

Robb sighed. “Jon, I was King in the North, and I failed. I think you’ll find that I’m not especially popular amongst the lords of the North. And I think you’re underestimating yourself. The people in this keep right now aren’t looking to me, they’re looking to you. The rest of the lords will be arriving throughout the week and if they swear to House Stark, it won’t be because of me.” Jon was shaking his head fast, and Sansa was looking at Robb with a looking of growing horror. “Listen to me, both of you. I have no desire to be anything other than Robb. I’m a shadow of the man I used to be, and I’m still looking for an actual purpose to my time here. I survived a situation I shouldn’t’ve and I’m tired. The Lord’s chambers are not my place anymore.”

Jon sighed. “You don’t get to make that decision Robb. You are the trueborn heir of Ned Stark. I will always be his bastard son. You might be right about the lords being pissed at you, but they’ll never choose me over you. And I don’t want to put any of us in that situation. I’m just as much a failed leader as you. My men killed me, Robb. I was dead. All that talk of Melisandre raising me from the dead, it’s not an exaggeration. I took seven knives to my body, and one directly in my heart. I laid dead for two days until Davos convinced her to try her spells. When Sansa arrived at Castle Black I was preparing to leave because my watch was over. I had done my duty, I had done it to my death. So if you want to talk about who shouldn’t be here. It’s me. It’s definitely me.” Jon was practically shouting as he finished. Robb had always been a bit selfish growing up. He thought that was a product of him growing up the heir to Winterfell, but seeing the selfishness now was astounding. The idea that he’d just give up and leave all the problems to his family made Jon angry. “I need you here taking the lead because there’s a war coming and if we’re not united, not only with the North fall, but the whole world with it.”

Robb looked at Jon seriously. “What war?”

Jon sighed and took a huge gulp of ale. He knew the Free Folk believed him, the Night’s Watch did too, but he was sure Sansa was still skeptical. “The Great War. The only one that matters. Robb, the Night King, the white walkers, they’re all real. I’ve seen them, I’ve fought them, they’re the reason I let the Free Folk south of the wall. They’re coming with an army bigger that anyone has ever seen, and they’re coming for one purpose. To destroy the living. The North will need a leader, honestly, I don’t know if the North will be enough. All of Westeros is going to have to band together, but I can’t even convince people that they even exist.” Jon ended his rant with his chest heaving and his eyes begging his brother to believe him.

Robb sat staring at Jon for a long few minutes. The only sound in the room was the crackling fire behind them. Sansa stayed silent; forehead creased in concentration as if she were still working out a puzzle in her mind. The tension built in the room until Robb finally nodded, “Alright, then it sounds like we have work to do, and before we begin, I know some things that might just give us an edge.”

Jon sat speechless before his brother, “You believe me?” he asked. Sansa looked just as shocked as Jon.

“You were always the most dour of us. The last to believe any of those stories Old Nan would tell us. If you’re saying they exist. Then they do. End of story.” Robb said definitively.

Sansa was staring at them both as if they had lost their minds, she went to speak but Robb put his hand over hers. “I know it’s hard to accept, but you’re going to have to, because I believe him. And I need you to believe me with what I’m about to tell you both.”

Robb picked up his cup and drained the rest of his ale and started in on his sad tale. He explained how at the Red Wedding he had been stabbed several times and laid on the ground breathing his last, when in the chaos of the hall the Blackfish entered with his men and drug him out. They made it to the woods and hunkered down. Robb admitted that he didn’t remember too much of this because he was in and out of consciousness. “I do remember Frey’s two sons, Black Walder and Lothar, looking for us in the woods.” He continued.

_ “Where the fuck did ‘e go?” Lothar asked. “We stabbed ‘im like three times and Bolton got him in the chest, it’s not like ‘e coulda run off!” _

__

_ “Well, if you wouldn’ve lost the Blackfish we wouldn’ve had to leave the hall, and then we would have seen where Robb Stark went.” Black Walder explained to his brother. _

__

_ “What’re we gonna do?” Lothar wailed. “Father’s gonna kill us if we lost both Robb Stark and the Blackfish!” _

__

_ Black Walder snapped his fingers at his brother. “I know, we killed his wolf. We’ll take one of his soldiers, chop off his head and sew the wolf’s head to the soldier’s body and claim that it’s Robb Stark.” _

__

_ “But what about the Blackfish?” Lothar asked timidly. _

__

_ “He’s an old man with no allies, what’s he gonna do? And Robb Stark is as good as dead wherever he is. This’ll work. I promise.” Black Walder responded. _

__

_ “Okay, let’s do it!” Lothar responded obviously excited. _

“They were both so stupid. If they had just continued forward a hundred paces, they would’ve seen us and recaptured us. But the Frey’s are dense and lazy, and that’s what allowed us to survive. I continued with the Blackfish for several months while I healed. We hid in the smaller houses of the Riverlands. The longer we went, the more determined he was to take back Riverrun. I had no desire nor was I in the condition to enter a battle, so we parted ways. I promised when I was healthy enough, I’d come back and help. Another broken promise on my account.” Robb’s guilt and sadness shone on his face. “Anyway, I decided to head north, hoping to maybe be taken in by a bannerman while I finished healing. Moat Cailin is of course the first stronghold I encountered in the North. Howland Reed let me in and offered me a place to stay. And it was over the months there that I came to know more about our father, and the secrets he kept until his death.”

Jon and Sansa sat enthralled by Robb’s story, both of them at the same time said, “What secrets?”

Robb looked sadly at Jon and said, “Secrets that will change us for all time.”

Jon knew instinctively that Robb was referring to his mother. Howland Reed had been with Ned during Robert’s Rebellion. If anyone would know Jon’s origins, it would be him. “Do you know who she was?” he asked cautiously.

Robb looked at them both. “Jon, you’re not our brother.” Robb started. Sansa looked ready to protest and Jon just looked sick.

“That’s not possible, Jon looks more like a Stark than any of us. He looks just like Father! Anyone who would look at him would know immediately that he’s a Northman!” Sansa argued.

Robb just looked at Jon. “You’re our cousin. The son of our Aunt Lyanna. And Rhaegar Targaryen.”

Jon really was going to be sick now. “A bastard, I’ve always been one, but now I’m a bastard born of rape.”

“No. No.” Robb denied. “Howland was very clear on this. Lyanna had run off with Rhaegar. He had married her. You are the trueborn son of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen. Your given name was Jaehaerys Targaryen. She died giving birth to you and with her last breaths she made father swear to protect you. Howland was sworn to secrecy, and father brought you back to the North as his bastard son. Everything was done to protect you. From Robert, and from the Lannisters. With the death of your true brother and sister. You are the rightful heir to the Iron Throne.”

Sansa was shocked silent. There was practically steam coming out of her ears as she tried to process the new information. “There’s no way to prove any of this. Even if you could prove that Lyanna had run off with Rhaegar instead of being stolen, there’s no way to prove their marriage. No way to prove that Jon is legitimate. Howland’s testimony might be enough for us, but to back someone for the throne, we’d need more than just his word.”

“I DON’T WANT THE FUCKING THRONE!” Jon screamed at her. At them both. He pointed at Robb. “That’s what you really want, isn’t it? For me to try for the throne. To overthrow the Lannisters, all as some revenge on them.”

Robb looked at his cousin with determination in his eyes. “You are the rightful heir to the throne, and I think you would be a great king. You would prepare us for the war to come and you would be a king I would be honored to serve. A king raised in the North. I know this wasn’t what you wanted. You always just wanted to belong, to us. And if you take the Targaryen name and you fight for your birthright that will leave you alone. But you are a Stark, a trueborn Stark. You are the best of us Jon, you always were. Father knew it too, or he wouldn’t have protected you all those years, treated you like his son.”

“That’s a nice speech Robb and I appreciate it, I do. But you know that I was never truly treated like Ned Stark’s son. And he let me go off to the wall, for what? To rot away? To hide forever? Why? Maybe he saved me and kept me safe, but he obviously never meant for me to take the throne.” Jon argued. His head was pounding, and the anger was building yet again. The snarling voice in his head roared to the forefront, screaming for fire and blood. That’s when he realized it. The voice was the dragon, even if he didn’t believe his brother, this confirmed everything he’d said. The fiery presence that had been there since his resurrection was a dragon, the other half of his nature making itself known.

“I can’t speak to why Father did what he did. But I know after all I’ve seen, you’re the best we’ve got. I’ll be Warden of the North if that’s what you want. But you’re our king, and I’ll fight for that until my dying breath.” Robb finished strongly.

“I’m not the only Targaryen out there. Have you heard about Daenerys? With her dragons and armies? The latest ravens suggest she has all of the Dothraki with her, and they’re heading this way.” Jon reminded him.

“She’d be your aunt, right?” Sansa asked. “Your claim is better, but the dragons might be a problem.” She concluded with raised eyebrows. “The lords of the North will be here in a month’s time. We need to figure out what we want to do before then. We need a united front, or they will tear us apart.”

Robb nodded at her and went to go speak, but Jon stood from his seat. “I’m going down to the crypts. You two might be able to accept all of this quickly but I need some time.” Jon excused himself and headed to his mother, who had been below his feet all this time.

***

It had been a long month for the Starks. Robb was working around the clock to prepare for winter, gathering grain and insulating the armor. They had received a white raven from the citadel, winter had begun. They all knew better than to be caught by the snow. Sansa on the other hand was preparing for their guests. She was ready to receive all of their bannermen in the Great Hall and had rooms prepared for the lords. The Knights of the Vale were still camped around Winterfell along with the surrendered Bolton men. After a lengthy discussion it was decided that the men could either fight in the united North’s armies or they could be banished to the wall. The decision to stay was unanimous. No one but the Free Folk had seen much of Jon for weeks. He camped with them instead of staying in the Lord’s chambers, but Sansa finally persuaded him to come inside for the last few nights. She insisted it would look very bad if he were out with the wildlings instead of with his family. Baelish had been haunting her steps of late and she confessed he had tried to sway her from her brothers several times.

Jon’s anger was finally starting to die down, under control after understanding what was going on inside him. The warring nature of the fiery dragon and cool wolf nearly driving him out of his mind some days. His vision-like dreams were becoming more and more regular. They were also becoming clearer. He knew now that he was dreaming of Daenerys, his aunt, as she made her way to Westeros. He should probably be concerned that the main emotion he felt when he thought of the visions and the beautiful woman in them was arousal, but he couldn’t deny that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. It felt as if he was being pulled toward her by some invisible string. Robb still insisted that he embrace the Targaryen side and accept that he was supposed to be king. Sansa was a bit more subdued about her support, but even she had started hinting that she would prefer him on the throne to all other options. He thought they were both mad.

Despite their current feud, the three of them sat united at the head table before all of the lords of the North, the Knights of the Vale, and the Free Folk. The smallfolk were also there, lining the walls. He recognized some of them, he was getting more familiar with them, but there were still some new faces. It was obvious everyone was weary of the wildlings and gave them a wide berth at the left side of the hall. Yohn Royce was the first to say something out loud. “You expect the Knights of the Vale to side with Wildling invaders,” the Lord said haughtily.

“We didn’t invade, we were invited.” Tormund responded. “Not by me.” Lord Royce clipped back. That got a scoffing reaction from the rest of the hall. Most of them obviously taking sides with the Vale commander.

Jon was so fucking sick of the prejudice against the Free Folk. Why couldn’t people see that they were people too, just born on the wrong side of the Wall? “The Free Folk, the Northerners, and the Knights of the Vale fought bravely, fought together and we won.” He said decisively to the hall.

Robb stood and said, “My father used to say that we find our true friends on the battlefield!”

“Yes, well, you certainly lived by that motto didn’t ya, King in the North?” A sarcastic voice called from the crowd. The man stood when he got some affirmative replies. “The war is over, the Boltons are defeated, and winter is here. We should all go home to our keeps and wait out the coming storms.”

Robb sat while Jon took over. It was time to tell the North exactly what they were facing. “The true war is not over. It hasn’t even begun yet, and our enemy will not wait out the storm, he brings the storm.” The crowd started to murmur as the man sat down. Men turned to their lords and started speaking to one another, it was clear that they didn’t want direction from House Stark.

Lyanna Mormont looked at Jon and stood from her seat. He sat as she began to speak. “Your son was butchered at the Red Wedding, Lord Manderly, but you refused the call. You swore allegiance to House Stark, Lord Glover, but in their hour of need, you refused the call. And you, Lord Cerwyn,” She sneered at him. “Your father was skinned alive by Ramsay Bolton, and still you refused the call. But House Mormont remembers, the North remembers! We know no king, but the King in the North whose name is Stark!”

Lord Manderly stood then, “And what would you have us do Lady Lyanna, follow a King that already got himself nearly killed? Every house in this hall lost men fighting for Robb Stark and we lost. Badly.”

Robb stood at the front of the hall. “You’re right Lord Manderly. Many of our people gave their lives in our quest to avenge my father and save my sisters. And I won’t deny that I wasn’t the best leader to you. I am the eldest son of Ned Stark, and by rights I am Lord of Winterfell. But there is one with a greater, bigger claim here today. One that will lead us through this war to come, and one that could sit on the Iron Throne and bring peace.” Jon shifted in his seat. This wasn’t fair. He hadn’t even accepted his birth and here Robb was going to anoint him King in front of the entire North and Vale. The murmurs turned into a dull roar as the men searched the hall for any hidden person. Petyr Baelish stood against the wall with eyes as big as saucers. Davos just looked confused but straight at Jon, as if he knew what was about to happen.

“Jon Snow was Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch. He has been released of his vows honorably and has come south to save our home, our country from a mad man. He fought beside you, he led you, and it’s to him you owe this victory. But there is more that you must know my lords. For most of his life you have known him as Jon Snow, the bastard son of my father. But the truth is Jon Snow is not a bastard at all. He is the legitimate son of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen.” Robb finished and the hall erupted.

“Lies! It’s all lies! Lyanna was kidnapped and raped by Rhaegar!” Shouted Lord Manderly.

“He’s a fucking dragon, he doesn’t belong here!” Screamed Lord Glover.

Finally, one voice rose above the rest. “What proof do you have of this?” Lord Royce asked.

Robb looked around the room as it quieted. “Lord Howland Reed was with my father in Dorne when they went to rescue Lady Lyanna. They arrived after Jon had been born and she was bleeding to death. Lyanna made my father promise to save her trueborn Targaryen son. Jon Snow is that son, Jaehaerys Targaryen, a son of the North born for the throne. He is it’s true heir, he is our true king, and the one to lead us through the Long Night!”

Lord Royce walked carefully to the front of the room. “We fought with Ned Stark to overthrow the Targaryens. Now you want us to back a Targaryen’s claim for the throne?”

“You’ll find no better man to sit on it.” Davos said,rising from his seat. “If our kingdoms can have a king like Jon Snow, we might actually stand a chance of building something decent.”

Many around the room nodded, the tide was turning in their favor. Lord Glover stood “I did not answer the call to come to Winterfell and fight, and I will regret that until my dying day. But if we can have a true Northerner justly sit on the Iron Throne, that’s worth my allegiance. I pledge my sword to House Stark, to Jon Snow, whatever his name is, the true King of the Seven Kingdoms!”

Lord after lord came forward and pledged their own swords to the cause. Jon stood at the table, his brother and sister at either side as he accepted their fealty. Lord Royce was the last. “I don’t agree with many of your decisions, but you can’t be much worse than the lions down South right now.” Jon nearly rolled his eyes. Obviously, their alliance with the Vale was going to need work.

Tormund came to stand before the table, “Free Folk don’t kneel, but I’ll fight for you Jon Snow, as you’ve fought for us.” He nodded to him then walked back to his group of wildlings.

After nearly an hour, Jon had to get out of there, he needed fresh air. He found himself up on the battlements with a young peasant woman, but when she turned to him, he saw that she was as familiar to him as his own face. “Arya!” He shouted. She launched herself into his arms and he held her close.

“Arya?” A voice came from behind them. Arya wiggled out of his arms and walked to her sister. Sansa and Arya had always been at odds, but all that disappeared as they collapsed together.

Robb came next and he dragged Arya from Sansa’s arms wrapping her in a massive hug as he cried silent tears.

“I can’t believe we’re all here,” he said after he released her. “The pack back together again.”

All four of them turned to look out over the snowy fields before them. Sansa began, “When the snows fall, and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives.”

Jon smiled. Things were insane, he was apparently set to become King of the Seven Kingdoms, the Night King was on his way, Cersei still ruled in the South, and Daenerys was making her way to Westeros, but for now the pack was together and they were strong.


	6. Daenerys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daenerys chooses a Hand. Her allies arrive and plan their next moves. She visits the Dothraki on the mainland.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya! It's another Wednesday! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!!

It took nearly two weeks for her allies to make their way to Dragonstone. They were expected on the morning tide. Lady Olenna Tyrell was one of the more formidable figures in Westeros. She had a reputation for a sharp tongue and even sharper wit. Princess Arianne of Dorne however, was a bit more mysterious. She wasn’t well known amongst many of the noble houses, mainly because she spent so much time traveling in Essos. Daernerys didn’t look forward to having to explain the fate of her family members on their journey. They didn’t know much about the fate of Ellaria and Tyene, but Varys’s little birds did say that they were marched through the street and presented to Cersei. Theon still hadn’t said much about the encounter with his uncle, but the Ironborn were not impressed with him. They would all sit down tomorrow and counsel about their path forward. Dany was nervous, in Essos it was simply take what you wanted, in Westeros she was going to have to work with others to achieve her goals. Playing nice wasn’t always her specialty.

Then there was the fact that she was a dragon queen without her dragons. Drogon, Rhaegal, and Viseron remained out of reach. There were no reports of any sightings or attacks. She supposed she should be grateful, that obviously wherever they were they weren’t wreaking havoc upon the world. Occasionally, she thought she sensed Drogon, his warm mind slipping past hers. Whenever she tried to make a connection, a splitting headache would hit her, and she would start to bleed. At first, she had bled from her ears, nose, and mouth, but as she healed now, she only had nose bleeds. She took it as a sign that she was on the mend, that her connection would come back, but she was getting impatient. She tried again quickly to meet Drogon mind to mind. She gasped and grabbed her head. She felt the blood starting to drip from her nose.

“Are you feeling alright? Do you need to sit down?” Maester Cressen asked. She cringed as he reached out to her, he took too many liberties. At eighty years old he was one of the few who remembered her family, having been the maester of Dragonstone for most of his service. He had been very quick to inform her that he had been the one to help her mother deliver her into the world. Cressen was an interesting man to talk to and a huge source of knowledge, but he was used to things a certain way. He had been a maester most of his life and was allowed to do anything without being questioned. He touched her far too often in her opinion, his hands cold and wrinkly. She much preferred the way Maester Pylos treated her. The younger maester was a few years older than her and obviously had been sent to replace Cressen when he passed. He always asked before touching, always made sure she felt comfortable, and was quick witted. The older man wasn’t bad, he was just living in the world she wanted to leave behind. Apart from how he treated her, she didn’t appreciate how he treated her people. Cressen always kept a close eye whenever Missandei or Greyworm were around, the distrust obvious.

“I’m fine maester.” She smiled at him. “I’m glad it’s taken everyone two weeks to get here, it has given me some time to settle in and heal.” Daenerys may not have particularly liked the man, but she knew she didn’t want an enemy in the old maester. “Tell me, Maester Cressen, about the island of Dragonstone. I’ve had the opportunity to see most of the keep, but there is more on this island.” She offered him a chance to talk, something he loved to do.

“The island of Dragonstone is volcanic in nature. It sits upon large deposits of dragonglass, or obsidian. Left over from the volcano that is at the heart of the island. It sits dormant now of course. Also, most of the island is made of basalt, the black rock with the red veins running through.” Daenerys nearly rolled her eyes. This wasn’t what she had in mind. “On the North side of the island are a series of large caves. The maester before me insisted that if you go back far enough there are a group of hot springs where the ancient dragons used to nest.” Dany perked up, “Is it true? Do they exist, these hot springs?” “I don’t know. It’s not been a practice of mine to go walking in the darkness of the caves.” Daenerys huffed. Of course it wasn’t. She made a mental note to visit the caves herself. She missed the scalding baths of Pentos, and if she could find something similar, maybe she could finally warm up in this climate.

“Then there’s the villages outside of the keep and near the harbor. Mostly farmers and fishermen down there.” He continued. “You’ll find that many of them share similar features with Your Grace as they’ve shared the island for many centuries with your family. Of course, all of that will remain in the past.” Daenerys was confused. “What do you mean?” “Well,” he said. “Lord Stannis outlawed all prostitution and was very strict with the people here. I think they took to his stewardship quite well.”

Maester Pylos had entered during the last part of their conversation. He rolled his eyes and shook his head at Dany. She struggled not to laugh. The idea that the commoners of Dragonstone enjoyed being told how to live their lives was absurd. She was also sure that Stannis’s obsession with the red god probably made him seem mad. “Your Grace, I have the package that you requested.” Maester Pylos said, holding up a small package wrapped in paper. “Thank you Maester Pylos.” She said smiling. “Would you be so kind as to find Lord Tyrion for me? I’d like to speak to him before the arrivals.”

“Of course, Your Grace.” He nodded. “Maester Cressen, I do need your assistance today.” Cressen looked at Pylos confused. “The lessons in the common tongue for the Unsullied.” Pylos reminded him. Cressen made a face as he shuddered. “I’m so grateful for your help with this maesters. It’s very important to me that my men can communicate effectively with the local populations.” Daenerys smiled. She did think it would help during conflicts if the Unsullied were able to talk to the people they were dealing with, also she got a lot of pleasure in forcing Cressen to help the “foreigners”. The two maesters left her in her solar alone with the requested item.

There was a knock on the door several minutes later. “Enter.” Daenerys called. Tyrion walked in. He was running himself ragged, especially the last couple of days trying to get everything ready. He was receiving ravens from every corner of Westeros as news of her arrival was spreading. Normally, she would have taken to helping with the workload, but found she needed more rest than she thought to heal from the naval battle. Tyrion had dark circles under his eyes, and just a small smile. “Your Grace.” He said tiredly.

“Lord Tyrion. When is the last time you slept?” She asked. He just shrugged back at her. “After we’re done here, I must insist that you seek your bed until the meeting begins. Missandei can handle getting everyone settled, and I’d prefer for my hand to be well rested when contending with Lady Olenna.” His head snapped up and he looked at her wide eyed. Suddenly the exhaustion seemed to seep out of him. She smiled and continued, “I don’t trust people easily Tyrion. Seeing as you know quite a bit about my past, I think you should understand why.” He nodded. “Your work this last month, particularly since Euron’s attack, has been commendable. You should know a few things before you agree. I will not take all of your advice. I will nearly always question you. I will not be a pushover, and I will never be uninformed. Your role as my hand is to provide me information and counsel. It is to be my friend, never my enemy. To correct me when I’m wrong. To protect me from my enemies. My intention is to give the common people more of a say in their lives. That is how we break the wheel, and I need you to know that is the main goal before we go into this. It will be a fight every step of the way because no one will want to give up their power.” He nodded solemnly. “And the last thing I need you to know is that if you betray me, I will burn you alive.”

Tyrion stood before her. “I have every confidence in you, Your Grace. And I will do my very best to never fail you. I want to see this world you’re building, and I want to help you build it.” His eyes filled with purpose and tears.

“I had something made for you. The maesters knew more about it than I did.” She unwrapped the package from Maester Pylos. Sitting in the paper was a large brooch, roughly hewn from a dark metal. The shape was a familiar one to Tyrion, a circle with a hand clasping a long blade pointing down. “Tyrion Lannister, I name you Hand of the Queen.” She attached the brooch to his left breast. He was overwhelmed and knelt before her. “Now that that’s taken care of, off to bed Lord Hand. I’ll see you in a few hours.” She smiled at him. He nodded and turned to leave.

“I hope you know; I’ve never been prouder to serve anyone else, Your Grace.” He said with a watery smile, then stepped through the door.

***

She could already hear the harsh words being exchanged as she climbed the stairs. Daenerys took a deep breath and entered the chamber. The entire group went silent and turned to her as she entered. She stood tall; eyes focused. She knew it was vitally important not to show any weakness in front of this group. Missandei had braided her hair into one large braid, all of the smaller ones meeting in the back. It was her battle hair, and this was the first great battle of the coming war. Missandei announced her arrival “You are in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, Rightful Heir to the Iron Throne, Rightful Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, the Mother of Dragons, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, The Unburnt, The Breaker of Chains.”

“Well, that’s definitely an entrance, Your Grace.” Lady Olenna said from her seat. She was the only one who hadn’t stood when she entered the room, but Dany didn’t take offense as she was leaning heavily on her cane.

“We all have our titles, Queen of Thorns. Mine have been just as well earned as yours.” Dany replied to the older woman.

Olenna nodded at her, obviously satisfied with the bite in her voice. Daenerys moved around the table and took her spot on the raised place near Dragonstone. She surveyed her other guests. Theon stood in the corner flanked by two Ironborn soldiers. The self-assurance he first showed in Meereen was all but gone. He was huddled in on himself, eyes shifting quickly around the room. He reminded her of a changed animal. She took a mental note to have Tyrion get to the bottom of what happened between the man and his uncle. Lady Olenna was dressed all in black, her headdress topped with a golden rose. Her eyes reflected her calculating mind but also showed deep sorrow. She had already shown her spunk in the meeting and Daenerys braced herself to hear more. Arianne Martell was a beautiful woman. Sun-kissed skin and dark hair like her relations, but a fuller figure. Her posture was proud, but her face was not happy. Tyrion stood beside her, standing tall with his chest just slightly puffed out. In this room were her allies, the families that would help her win Westeros.

“I think we should begin…” Tyrion began. “If you think you’re going to start this meeting without explaining what happened to our fleet on the Narrow Sea, you are fool Lannister.” Arianne spit from her seat.

Daenerys took a deep breath. “Princess Arianne, I can only express my deepest sympathies for your loss. I did not know Ellaria or the Sand Snakes well, but they were a spirited bunch. Rest assured, everything possible will be done to recover them from Cersei’s custody.”

Arianne sat and watched Daenerys for a long moment. “Ellaria and Tyene are dead. And even if they aren’t, they soon will be. Trying to save them from Cersei now is a fool’s errand. And quite frankly, they probably earned what is coming to them.” That shocked everyone in the room as they stared at her. “Tyene is the closest thing I have to a sister, and I have great affection for Ellaria, but I didn’t agree with their decision to kill Myrcella. She was an innocent girl and was to be my sister by law. My brother Trystane was murdered by Obara and Nymeria. And they killed my father. I did think he was rather useless towards the end, but he was still my father, and a good man. I’m not saying that I side with Cersei, because I think she’s a monster who will be the end of us all, but you don’t have to worry about my needing retaliation for those lost at the battle.”

Daenerys was confused. “Then why the outrage?” she asked Arianne.

At this, Olenna chuckled. “Because you can’t get through even one meeting with the Dornish without there being some sort of drama.”

Arianne hissed back at her. Olenna gripped her cane tighter and went to respond.

“ENOUGH.” Daenerys said firmly. “I realize that there is bad blood between the Martells and Tyrells. Quite frankly, there’s bad blood between all of us here. But each of you have your own reasons for aligning with me, and by doing that you are agreeing to work together for our common goal.”

“Yes, our common goal of stringing Cersei up by her fingernails.” Olenna added harshly. “Please tell me, Your Grace, how are you planning to sack King’s Landing if that insane pirate is holding Blackwater Bay? I do believe that should be our first discussion.” She turned to Theon, “are your men even capable of fighting your uncle?”

Theon flinched at the attention. “We have enough ships to move the armies around, but everyone should be concerned about Euron. There’s also the fact that he’s holding my sister, the heir to the Iron Islands, hostage.”

“Do we know that?” Daenerys asked him gently. “Are you sure he hasn’t just killed her? Or handed her over to Cersei? Varys, what do we know?”

“Cersei has no need for Yara Greyjoy, and none of my birds have reported seeing her there.” Varys answered. “There’s been no sight or sound of her.”

She turned to Theon with raised eyebrows. “What would he do with her?”

Theon’s face turned dark. “She’s on The Silence. He wants to keep her there. To torment her, and to torment me.”

“How do you know that?” Olenna asked him.

“He told me as much the night of the battle. I failed her, and now he has her.” Theon responded, obviously miserable. “The Martells may not care about getting their family back, but I do. We have to find a way in.”

“So we take King’s Landing, with Fire and Blood. Right, Your Grace?” Lady Olenna pressed.

“I will not burn down King’s Landing. There are a million innocent people living in that city.” Daenerys said.

“First of all, no one is innocent in King’s Landing.” Arianne started, “second, it will be hard to take anything with fire and blood if we don’t have dragons. All we have heard for months Your Grace is that you have three fully grown fire-breathing dragons, yet we have been here all day and not a single roar. Rumors are spreading that the battle in the Narrow Sea may have left us without our biggest weapon.”

“My dragons are alive and well, I can assure you that. They go their own way, but rest assured when the time is right, they will be there.” Daenerys said. She hoped those words proved true.

“So then, if we’re not going to burn them out, how are we going to take King’s Landing?” Lady Olenna asked.

“We’re going to lay siege to the city. Their supplies are already low, and their food comes from your Kingdom, Lady Olenna. I assumed that would mean a diversion of those resources.” Tyrion said, finally stepping in. Olenna looked at him and reluctantly nodded. “But putting the Dothraki and Unsullied at the gates of the capital will simply look like a foreign invasion. That is where we need the help of Dorne and The Reach.”

“You want us to supply this siege with our own men. While yours do what exactly?” Arianne asked.

“We will send the Unsullied to the Westerlands, where they will take Casterly Rock. That will leave Cersei and her armies with nowhere to flee. The Dothraki we will send to the Reach.” Tyrion finished.

“Why?” Olenna asked incredulous. “A hoard of barbarians in my countryside?”

“The Dothraki are camped in the Crownlands as we speak, being watched over by Lord Staunton of Rook’s Rest. I’ve been told they’re actually doing quite well there.” Daenerys inserted. Her snarling dragon awoke inside her and the prejudice against her army. “I had planned to make a visit this week to see for myself. I understand the Dothraki are intimidating, and they should be. But they are sworn to me and have changed their ways for the time being.”

“But why to the Reach?” Asked Arianne.

“Lady Olenna, I was under the impression that you lost all of your family to the Sept of Baelor. Is that correct?” Daenerys asked.

“I lost the future of my house, my granddaughter and my able grandson. I have two more, Garlan and Willas, but I rue the day when they’re the face of House Tyrell.” Olenna said, rolling her eyes. “My granddaughter was a beloved queen. The commoners loved her. The nobility loved her. She would have ushered in a bright future for House Tyrell. And Loras, despite his proclivities in the bedroom was everything a knight should be. He would have been the best face for our house. Garlan is just as useless as his father was, half-witted and haughty. Willas, he has a keen mind, but is sickly. If House Tyrell survives this generation it will purely be due to the favor of the Gods.”

“Even so, your house is arguably the most powerful in Westeros.” Tyrion continued.

“At least the richest.” Olenna agreed.

“Which means the first Keep to be sacked by the Lannister army will be Highgarden. Especially if they think all of its’ heirs are gone.” Tyrion said. “The Dothraki will protect you, my lady, and what is left of your house.”

Theon finally spoke. “Even if all of this goes to plan, you’ll still only control half of the Seven Kingdoms. Everything north of King’s Landing will still be up for grabs, and with the way things are shaping up there, you may have a problem with one of your father’s most stubborn enemies.”

Daenerys turned to Tyrion. He looked at her. “The latest information that we have is that House Stark took back Winterfell from the Boltons.”

“Who’s left in House Stark?” Olenna asked. “They all came South, and they all died.”

“Not all of them came south,” Tyrion said warningly.

“A bastard sent to the Wall? Ned Stark’s bastard son? Is that what this is about?” Olenna scoffed.

“Not just Jon. Sansa was alive and well when I left her. Alive and with Brienne of Tarth. She now has the two best swordsmen in the Seven Kingdoms.” Theon added.

“I’m confused. Dorne does not concern itself with the brutish North, please explain.” Arianne said after whispering with her advisors.

Tyrion took a deep breath. “Jon Snow, the bastard son of Ned Stark and current Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch has apparently abandoned his post. The latest information tells us that he and his sister Sansa Stark, who was married off to Lord Ramsay Bolton, have taken back Winterfell from him.” There was a large commotion at this. Not only was this news to Olenna and Arianne, but also Daenerys. Tyrion looked at her apologetically. “Varys just received the information; it was news to me too.” He whispered at her. Tyrion turned back to the table and raised his voice. “That’s not all. Lord Baelish, the current ‘Lord Protector’ of the Vale sent the Knights of the Vale to the North. He was always close to Sansa, and he’s basically declared an allegiance at this point. And with Edmure Tully being returned to Riverrun after the decimation of the Freys, we can safely assume that the Riverlands will follow suit.”

“The damn Starks control the entire northern half of Westeros!” Olenna growled.

“But which of the Starks?” Arianne asked. “The trueborn sister or the bastard brother?”

“It’s a good question. The North values honor and looks down on bastards, but they’re a hard people and will favor a legendary warrior over a girl.” Tyrion said.

“Legendary warrior? I think that might be a bit of a stretch. For now, we move our pieces as we see fit. The Unsullied will head west, the Dothraki will move to the Reach, and the Dornish and Reach armies will surround King’s Landing. It should take about two months at least to get all of our pieces in place. By then hopefully we can treat with the leader of the North, the brother or the sister. Varys send a raven to Winterfell demanding that its’ liege come and bend the knee.” Daenerys said finally.

***

It had been a week since the meeting with her allies. Daenerys was breathing easier every day and her headaches were finally starting to lessen. She continued to try and reach for Drogon, who had yet to make an appearance. The strange thing was, the warmth she normally felt at his presence was there, and nearly constant. She couldn’t tell if she was imagining it or not. She looked ahead over the bow of the ship. Everyone on the vessel was on edge. It was a quick trip to the mainland, a ferry basically, but with Euron still around no one knew when the next attack might come. According to Varys’s little birds, the pirate was granted access to Cersei’s bed thanks to his gift of Ellaria and Tyene. Daenerys almost threw up when she heard that. The man was a monster, she remembered his battle cries and viciousness in battle. Honestly, she wouldn’t wish him even on Cersei.

Varys and Tyrion had desperately been trying to figure out what was happening in the North. The battle was one, but there were conflicting reports on who had gained control of Winterfell. Tyrion said some of the things coming from their spies were impossible. She didn’t know what he meant by that, but he said he’d explain when they finally had everything settled. Dany was intrigued by the North; her dreams of the place had only grown more vivid. Blue roses, snow, and now gray eyes started to appear. This morning she had woken in a fit of arousal. She’d had to take care of herself before she even let Missandei in to help her dress. Whatever was going on up there, she hoped he was the one who answered the call.

She felt an enormous sense of relief when they docked in the harbor of the town at the base of Rook’s Rest. Waiting for her on the dock was a tall strapping man that seemed to be in his thirties. His dark hair was long and pulled back into one queue, his beard also long but well kept. His tunic was black and dark grey sporting Raven’s wings. This was Lord Staunton, the lord of Rook’s Rest and the chaperone of her Dothraki. He greeted her by kneeling. “Your Grace, it is an honor to welcome a Targaryen once more to Rook’s Rest.”

“Thank you, Lord Staunton. I have very much looked forward to meeting the man who took on my Dothraki.” She said with a chuckle. “I hope they haven’t been too much trouble.” As she said it, a loud chorus sounded further up on the fields. “KHALEESI!” She smiled at them and raised her arm.

Lord Staunton chuckled heartily. “On the contrary, Your Grace. They’re a rowdy bunch, but they’ve behaved themselves. I won’t lie, my wife and advisors thought me mad when I accepted your offer though. But truth be told they’ve helped me as much as I’ve helped them.” She looked at him with surprise. She was not used to this reaction to outsiders from the Westerosi. In her experience most of them seemed very close-minded.

Up ahead, Qhono and Chakko were walking toward them. “Khaleesi.” They greeted, nodding their heads. “Qoy Qoyi.” She responded. “It does me good to see you both well.” She said in Dothraki. They smiled back at her. “The bird man says you have need of us, Khaleesi.” Qhono said. Daenerys nodded; the bird man must be Lord Staunton.

“Yes. I need you to go to the Reach and protect a stone house called Highgarden. It sits high above the grass sea.” She said back to him. “You will kill the men in the iron suits if they march against this house.” They both nodded. “Chakko will go with khalasar. He has many men following him.” Qhono said. “I stay with Khaleesi.” She smiled at him. “I thank you Qoy Qoyi.”

She had intended to stay in her tent in the middle of the Dothraki encampment, but Lord Staunton insisted that there would be a feast held. “I don’t need a feast in my honor, my lord.” She assured him. “I’m sorry, Your Grace, but it’s not exactly for you.” He replied. “It’s for the Dothraki, a thank you before they depart.”

She was really confused now. “Thank you for what, Lord Staunton?”

He sighed and started back towards his keep. “Ever since that Baelish cunt has taken up residency in the Eyrie, he has made life a living hell for the rest of us. I’m not subject to him as my keep is in the Crownlands and not the Vale, but the consequences of his actions are reaching far. I’m sure you know that the actual Lord of the Vale is Robyn Arryn. We all know him to be a soft-headed child. When Baelish married his mother, he took control of the young boy’s mind. Even though Robyn is alive and well, it is Littlefinger who rules the Vale. Anyway, he neglects many parts of his duties and the one that really affects us here is the management of the hill tribes. They’re a savage people, wildlings really. They raid, pillage, and rape. Since taking over the seat, Baelish leaves them to roam the countryside. None of the villages were safe, until the Dothraki showed up. It was like everything was perfectly crafted. Your men obviously needed an outlet, and we had a savage enemy. The hill tribes one day made the poor decision to raid one of the Dothraki camps. The Dothraki butchered them. Nothing left.” He turned to look at her then. “Do you know how they are?”

“Lord Staunton, I was sold to a Dothraki Khal as a young woman, a girl really. I saw everything they are capable of, which is why I swore them to a new way of life if they came here.” Daenerys answered. “Did they harm your people?”

“That’s just it. They came and confessed what they had done. They said they knew it was against your orders and they would probably face death, but they came to warn us about the hill tribes.” He shrugged. “For the next few days I rode with them and we beat back the wildlings. The Dothraki have been quiet since then. They have skirmishes amongst themselves, and I think I see pyres every few days, but they’ve been nothing but an asset.”

Dany sighed in relief. “So, the feast tonight is to thank them for their assistance?”

“Yes, and to say goodbye. I made friends with a few of them. They’re quite the characters.” He said smiling.

“They are.” She agreed. They made their way up to the castle. Rook’s Rest was a small keep, but very well maintained. Every room she entered was warm and comforting. The wood floors gleamed and the tapestries that hung on the walls brought splashes of color. The commoners working there looked happy, well fed, and were very respectful. She immediately knew that no matter what happened in the future, House Staunton would always be a favorite to visit. She looked at the Unsullied with her, Greyworm had led the bulk of her Unsullied to the Westerlands and now her protection was in the hands of one of his most trusted, Red Flea. He seemed to be having the same reaction as her, his shoulders losing some of their ever-present tension.

She was introduced to Lady Staunton, and immediately Dany knew that Tyrion had been correct about the assessment he’d made of this family. The woman was gorgeous. Fair skin, deep blue eyes almost close to her violet, and wavy rich blond hair. It wasn’t just her appearance either, she shone from the inside with a great kindness. It became obvious very quickly that there was great affection between the couple from their looks and small touches. Dany smiled. If she could one day have a home with a husband, this is what she’d want it to be like. She resolved then and there to do everything she could to protect the kind couple.

The feast they held honoring the Dothraki was an interesting affair. Obviously, Lord Staunton had spent a great deal of time with her Khalasar in the past few weeks. She could tell because he’d only let about fifteen of them actually come inside for the feast. He explained that they’d brought more in one time for a meal, but they had taken over the hall and given everyone quite the show. He was good natured about it, but his cheeks flamed as he explained their behavior. “We’d asked them not to bring weapons, knowing their penchant for fighting.” He explained. “Now I know that I should have removed the cutlery as well. And I didn’t quite realize just how much they enjoy, well, fucking in public. Thank goodness our children had already been removed.” He laughed heartily. “Anyway, the fifteen or so you see here now are the ones that managed to behave themselves with some sort of decorum. That is after Lady Staunton gave a stern lecture on how to behave while in the Keep. It was so hilarious, she was berating them, but of course they couldn’t understand a word she was saying, but I think they finally understood when she mimicked the…uh…fucking with her hips and then shook her head ‘no’.” He was shaking with laughter at this point.

Not only was the story amusing to Daenerys, she also found it hilarious that the man obviously was concerned about talking to her about the…uh…fucking. “Not everyone I meet is so understanding of their ways, Lord Staunton. I really appreciate your kindness towards them. It’s a rare trait.”

“Can I confess something, Your Grace?” He asked. She nodded to him. “I, like many Westerosi, was raised with certain prejudices against people labelled as savages or wildlings. I didn’t know any better really. When I was a younger man my father decided to trade with the wildlings north of the Wall. They call themselves the Free Folk and remind me a lot of your Dothraki actually. Anyway, he had decided to trade with them after Robert Baratheon stripped the Crownlands of all their meat one year.” He rolled his eyes at this. “Robert was a hunter, or liked to play at one, so his advisors came and gathered all the wild game they could find for him to hunt. It left many of the Keeps in a bad way, no meat for a whole year. My father didn’t want to go to any of the other Kingdoms for help, he was worried that his complaining would get back to the king and considered Essos briefly before deciding to try the Free Folk. I sailed with him to their harbor, called Hard Home. That’s where I met my wife, you see. Her father asked mine to bring her South, said something about how the true north was growing too dangerous. We brought Val home and things just happened, we fell in love, and luckily, maybe because we’re a small keep here, no one cared when we married. Most people who meet her would never know that she was of the Free Folk, but if they ever found out, people would treat us very similarly to how they treat them.” He pointed to the Dothraki.

“You’re a rare man, Lord Staunton.” Daenerys said. “I’m glad our paths have crossed.”

“I’m honored, Your Grace.” He replied. “I don’t remember your father; I know at the end things weren’t good with him. But I know my father would be happy to see the return of the Targaryens. He always felt your family had magic in their blood. I was skeptical of you at first, who wouldn’t be? But then I realized that you’re what I hope for in a ruler. You can see beyond what someone was born to be, to what they can be. Look at how you treat the Dothraki, the Unsullied. You took a Lannister for your hand. You allied with houses that twenty-some odd years ago ousted your family from Westeros. House Staunton will stand beside you in the wars to come.”

“Thank you.” She said, honored by his assessment. She bid the Stauntons good night. They had insisted she stay in the keep, but she explained that she needed to be in the Dothraki camp for now. Daenerys spent three days with the Dothraki, preparing them for their move to the Reach. She reinforced her commands to treat the commoners of Westeros well. And explained that they would be under the command of House Tyrell when they arrived at Highgarden. Chakko had assembled a group of 100 riders that were strong and had long braids. Each one would oversee a thousand of her screamers. She was surprised by the organization of the Khlasar, but Chakko explained through Qhono that prey was easier to take down with a plan in place.

After their time was up and the Khalasar mounted up to leave, Daenerys found herself back at the docks. This time with Lord Staunton, her Unsullied, and Qhono. The Dothraki bloodrider wanted a small group of Dothraki with her at all times. She felt that was reasonable seeing as they were the bulk of her forces. She looked up at Rook’s Rest with a smile. “Thank you for all you have done, Lord Staunton. You and your family are examples of what we are fighting for in Westeros.”

“It was my honor, Your Grace. I do not have a large force at my command, but should you have need, please don’t hesitate to call.” He said bowing low to her. She nodded at him kindly and then boarded her ship, sailing back to Dragonstone.

***

Seeing the Dothraki and House Staunton come together the way they had over a few weeks, made Daenerys hopeful. That was the kind of world she wanted to build. Free from prejudice and malice, coming together over shared goals and experiences. She wasn’t naïve, she knew that most Westerosi would not react to her people like the Stauntons did, but she hoped she could find a few that would.

She was becoming restless. Her people were moving into place, she was close to totally healed, just a small ache when she moved a certain way, and her arrival to Westeros had been formally announced to all housed by raven. They were still waiting to receive a reply from the North. It seemed that things were a bit more complicated up there than originally thought, or they were just refusing to answer. It was another chilly and rainy day when they received a white raven from the Citadel. Winter was upon them. She could have told them that without the raven, she was so cold all the time. Missandei kept the fires lit always and her bed had gained more and more furs, but nothing seemed to help.

Finally, after days of being miserably cold she convinced Missandei to come with her to explore the caves Maester Cressen had told her about. She was determined to find these hot springs. Missy was not particularly enthused by the idea of exploring a cave, but she humored Dany. Red Flea insisted on going with them of course. Dany wasn’t sure if it was for her protection or for Missandei’s. She had a sneaking suspicion that Greyworm had left Red Flea with orders to watch over Missy as well. There was obviously something going on between her loyal friend and the Unsullied commander, but she hadn’t asked yet. They entered the cave and quickly lit torches. The inside was beautiful, full of a dark glass that reflected the fire. This was dragonglass, created by the island’s volcano many years before. They traipsed further into the cave, which was large and tall. After what might have been hours, Dany was starting to think she’d never find it when she heard the dripping of water. She also heard a curious sound she hadn’t heard for weeks now.

A deep growl echoed through the cave and she gasped as the warmth in her mind returned. Now she knew why she was feeling it constantly. Excited she raised her torch even further and asked “Drogon?” Movement met her question, sliding scales against the rock. Out of the darkness came his massive head, his eyes bloodshot. He was obviously not recovered from the dragon horn but recognized her anyway, lowering his snout for her caresses. She cried with relief. Tears streaming down her face. She thought he might have been lost forever. She heard movement to her left side and felt the soft nudge into her ribs. Viserion was there. He looked at her curiously and she welcomed him with a smile, reassuring him that she was healing fine. Both dragons were nearly purring at her closeness. Then she heard a more menacing sound, a deep angry growl filled the cave and flames shot towards them. Rhaegal was huddled further into the cave. He was curled up into himself, bite marks and scratches where obvious along his form. His eyes were unseeing and angry. Her son was still held in the grip of the dragon horn. Judging by his wounds, Drogon and Viserion were doing their best to keep him contained in the cave. Now that she knew where her sons were, she would have the maesters look for a solution to Rhaegal’s plight. She didn’t dare approach him in his current state. Drogon and Viserion kept their bodies between her and Rhaegal.

“Your Grace,” Missandei whispered behind her. She turned to look at her. Missandei pointed her torch toward the other side of the cave, away from the dragons. There were a large series of pools, one that flowed right into the next. The smaller ones toward the top ending in a large pool at the bottom. Steam rose from all of the pools and the smaller ones had bubbles breaking the surface. The large pool sat down a slight slope from where they were standing. The faint smell of sulfur permeated the damp, warm air. Next to the pools sat a long smooth stone wall. There were sconces bolted into the wall for torches and she moved to place hers there. As she moved towards the wall with the sconces, she noticed a rough bench had been carved out of the base of the wall. Further down the wall was a passageway that was hewn from the rock. Red Flea led a few of the Unsullied through the entrance. After a few minutes he returned. “It leads up to the castle, Mhysa.” He spoke. She smiled and nodded at him. “Thank you, Red Flea. Will you go make sure it goes all the way through while Missandei and I enjoy the springs?” He nodded reluctantly. “Anyone could come in from cave.” He said. “The dragons will warn us.” She responded.

Drogon and Viserion were looking at her curiously. She sat down on the bench and removed her boots. “Your Grace, I think we should test the water first.” Missy said nervously. “That’s what toes are for.” Dany said, wiggling hers at her friend. She walked toward the water and dipped her toes in. It was scalding, perfect for her. She raced back to the bench and started hurriedly removing her thick dress. Missandei stepped up behind to help her in her impatience. Missy laughed as Dany practically ran back down to the pool and waded in. Her skin turned pink instantly and her hair floated around her as she made her way down the pool. The deepest part in the center still allowed Dany to stand with her head fully out of the water. The water was a deep blue green but murky with minerals, she could feel them already soaking into her skin. The aches and pains of her fall from Drogon and catch by Viserion were finally leaving her body. She tilted her head back and allowed her hair to soak in the clean water. This was her favorite part of Dragonstone. Easily. Missy finally came over to dip her toes in the water and yelped. “How can you stand this? It’s practically boiling!” She exclaimed. Dany just chuckled at her. Missy sat on the edge of the basin and slowly placed her feet then calves into the water. It was clear that she would go no further today. Daenerys made her way towards Missy and realized close to the edge that there was a bench beneath the surface, the perfect height to sit. She sat beside her friend’s feet and turned to look at her dragons. She felt an overwhelming sense of peace.

After a while, Red Flea finally returned. He had run into the chamber but halted and then turned quickly when he realized she was naked in the pool. Dany just raised her eyebrows. “What did you find, Red Flea?” She asked, curious. “The passage does lead back to the castle, Mhysa. It ends in the cellar, but the door is bolted from the other side. We’ll have to go out the way we came today.” He reported. After another half hour, she finally felt ready to get out of the water. Missandei helped her dry off with her scarf and redress into the heavy wool. She said a final goodbye to the dragons and the party made their way back through the cave. All of her hard-earned peace was driven from her by what she saw when she emerged back into the sunlight.

Tyrion was pacing back and forth in front of the cave, murmuring to himself and shaking his head. In his hand he held a scroll. Even more curious was Varys standing eyeing a woman with red hair, dressed completely in red. The hexagonal pattern of her necklace and dress reminded Dany of Qaithe, the mysterious woman she had met in Qarth. Tyrion and the woman looked up as they approached. He looked to the red priestess.

“Queen Daenerys,” the woman started in Valyrian. “I was a slave once, bought and sold, scourged and branded. It is an honor to meet the Breaker of Chains.” Daenerys folded her hands in front of her and looked curiously at her advisors. Why had they not waited until she was back in the main hall?

“The Red Priests helped bring peace to Meereen. You are very welcome here. What is your name?” She responded in Valyrian.

“I am called Melisandre.” The priestess started.

“She once served another who wanted the Iron Throne.” Varys said, obvious disgust in his tone. “It didn’t end well for Stannis Baratheon, did it?”

“No. It didn’t.” She responded in the common tongue.

“The Lord of Light doesn’t have many followers in Westeros, does he?” She asked the red woman.

“Not yet, but even those who don’t worship The Lord can serve his cause.” Melisandre responded.

“What does your Lord expect from me?” Dany asked.

“The Long Night is coming.” Melisandre switched back to Valyrian. “Only the prince who was promised can bring the dawn.”

“The prince who was promised will bring the dawn?” Daenerys echoed in common. “Or princess I guess, because that noun has no gender. Do you think I am this princess, my lady?”

“Prophecies are dangerous things, Your Grace.” Melisandre said. “I believe you have a role to play, as does another. The King at Winterfell, Jon Snow.”

“Jon Snow? The bastard who just took back the North is now styling himself a King?” She turned to Tyrion. He swallowed hard and gripped the raven scroll in his hand.

“Why do you think the Lord of Light signaled out this Jon Snow, aside from your visions in the flames?” Varys interrupted skeptically. Dany still looked at Tyrion who was nervously moving sand under his feet.

“As Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch, he allowed the wildlings south of the Wall, to protect them from great danger.” Daenerys shivered at this, remembering Lord Staunton’s story. “As King in the North he has united those wildlings with the Northern houses, so together they may face a great enemy.”

“He sounds like quite a man.” Daenerys smirked.

“Summon Jon Snow.” Melisandre pleaded. “Let him stand before you and tell you the things that have happened to him, the things he has seen with his own eyes.”

“We have already tried summoning the leader of the North and have received no response yet.” Daenerys looked to Tyrion, and he shook his head.

“There is more going on in the North than Jon Snow simply being named King.” Tyrion held up his scroll. “Robb Stark is alive. He somehow survived the Red Wedding and is back at Winterfell.”

“Why would the North choose a bastard son as king over the trueborn heir who was already named King in the North?” Varys asked, astonished. “That makes no sense.”

“They haven’t named Jon Snow King in the North. They’ve named him King. As in the King. Of the Seven Kingdoms.” Rage started to build up in Dany, her inner dragon snarling. “They claim that he is not Ned Stark’s bastard, but the trueborn son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark.”

Drogon roared feeling her rage from the cave behind them causing everyone but Dany to jump. “Send another raven North.” She commanded Tyrion. “Demand that this King Jon Snow appear before me or he will face my dragon’s fire.”


	7. Jon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and his siblings reconnect, another Stark returns home, and preparations for the future are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovelies! A few things:
> 
> First, I have realized that I have committed a cardinal fanfiction sin by not acknowledging the hard work of my beta, AbstractlySydney. Not only does she edit out my typos, she listens to me drone on endlessly about this fanfic. I'm so grateful for all her help.
> 
> Second, I had no idea that Chapter 6 was going spark such interesting debates! I read all of your comments, and I have to say, you're all very thoughtful. I, like you, have serious issues with the logic (or lack thereof) in seasons 7 and 8. This fanfic is my way of bridging some of those gaps. But, patience is a virtue and we will get to everything in due time.
> 
> Third, I hope you have a wonderful holiday!!! Merry Christmas! 
> 
> Thank you for all your kudos and comments and I hope you enjoy this week's Stark shenanigans!

Jon couldn’t believe what he was seeing. It was like he had been brought back to life in a different world. If someone had told him months ago that he’d be sitting in the Lord’s solar at Winterfell with Robb, Sansa, and Arya, he would have called them mad. He looked at all three of them as they sat just staring at one another.

“You need a bath and a shave.” Arya said first, pointedly looking at Robb. “When is the last time you cut your hair? You look like you could fit in with the wildlings I saw in the hall.”

Robb scowled at her. “I bathe. Just not very often.” He responded.

All three of them looked at him with raised eyebrows. He sighed, “Look, there hasn’t been much reason for me to bathe or shave, not for a long time now.” Sadness filled his eyes.

“Your life is not over, Robb.” Sansa began. “I know it may feel like it was supposed to end with mother and Talisa, but you’re here for a reason.” He looked at her hopefully, she quickly continued. “I don’t know what it is yet, but I know it’s for a reason.”

“It’s probably to put Jon on the throne.” Arya spoke sarcastically. She turned to look at Jon. “Do you really want to be King of the Seven Kingdoms?”

“No, I don’t want to be King of the Seven fucking Kingdoms, but grizzly over here,” he shoved his thumb at Robb, “decided that for me.”

“You can…” Robb began, “he should be King. It’s his birthright. It’s his throne.”

“And how do you plan to take it from the Lannisters?” Arya asked speculatively. “Did you know that Cersei just destroyed most of the court and put herself on the throne?”

“All the more reason.” Robb said.

“You don’t know what you’re saying Robb.” Sansa took over. “You were out there marching around and battling four other men who thought they deserved the throne, but Cersei was in King’s Landing, wreaking death and destruction on everyone. Don’t discount her just because she’s a woman. The Lannister army is at her back, and Euron Greyjoy just declared for her as well.”

“I’m not discounting her because she’s a woman.” Robb argued.

“Really, why else would you think it would be so easy to take the throne? What army do you have? In case you hadn’t noticed we’re woefully short on armies in the North.” Sansa snapped back. “Do you think she should just give up all her power because she doesn’t have a cock and Jon does?”

“Can you please not mention my cock?” Jon interjected.

Sansa rolled her eyes at him, while Arya smirked her amusement.

“Look, we have a legitimate shot at a decent ruler. One that understands the North. One that understands what it is like to live in Westeros with no promise of inheritance or place of power.” Robb said vehemently. “He is a good man, Sansa.”

“I’m not questioning that Jon is a good man, I know he is.” Sansa said strongly. “I know because he came with me on this fool’s errand to take back this castle. He’s tried to protect me every step of the way despite the fact that we were never close as siblings. You don’t have to sing his praises or count his merits to me, Robb. I do actually think that Jon would be a very decent and good king. But none of us have the resources to back him, none of us can even prove the claim of his birth! Now you’ve got the whole North getting excited and rallying around the idea that Jon Snow is a legitimate Targaryen that is going to not only going to save Westeros from the Others but also from a Mad Queen in the south! This is the kind of impulsive decision making that got you in trouble!”

Jon and Arya’s eyes widened and their eyebrows rose. It may have been years since they’d all been together, but it was still weird to have anyone talk to Robb that way.

Sansa had hit a sore spot. Robb was practically fuming in his seat. “You want to know what got me in trouble, Sansa?” Sansa looked at him warily. “Our mother got me in trouble. Making alliances without my knowledge, making promises I couldn’t keep, undermining me in front of my men, letting valued prisoners just walk out of camp, and having secret meetings with people on the other side!”

“You’re going to blame all of your failures on Mother?” Sansa scoffed. “Classy, Robb. Really nice.”

“Do you think Mother knew about Jon? That he wasn’t a bastard?” Arya asked, curiously.

Robb shook his head. “There’s no way. Look at the way she treated him. She thought he was father’s bastard, she couldn’t have known the truth and still treated him that way.”

“She could’ve if she’d thought I was a danger to all of you.” Jon said casually. He couldn’t imagine a world where Catelyn Stark actually tolerated him. “Either way, what she knew or didn’t know didn’t change the outcome of my life. I still took the Black.”

“Yes. Gods forbid there be a danger to us.” Robb said sourly.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Sansa asked. “She was our mother!”

“And I had to watch her die, after everything that happened, after I was so mad at her for what she had done, I still called out for her in what I thought were my last moments.” Robb said vehemently.

That shut them all up for a moment, each of them softly bowing their heads, as if in a silent tribute to her.

“It doesn’t change the fact that had Mother not been so blinded by her constant need to protect her children, things might have gone differently.” Robb said calmly.

“That’s just what you don’t understand, Robb. It’s what men don’t understand. She defended her children until the end, she was obsessed with saving them, because that’s all she could control.” Sansa said. “She didn’t have any real power. She had Brienne, and she was trying to make Baelish work for her, but she had no real power. You did, Father did, Baelish did. But she had none. And the one thing that was hers, that didn’t belong to a man was her right to protect her children.”

“She was a noble woman, she had power.” Robb answered back.

Arya and Jon both winced at his answer, knowing that Sansa was about to decimate him.

“Being a ‘noble woman’ in Westeros is not much better than being an indentured servant.” Sansa started in. “Women are born, and they are raised to believe their only purpose in life will be to support their husband on whatever honorable plan they have to change the world. They are sold off to the most advantageous situation for their fathers, regardless of how that situation will affect the woman. They are expected to be smart enough to understand the room, but not vocal enough to effect change in it. They are playthings and ornaments for men. Meant to bear their children, and that is all. And then we’re told that our only job in life is to raise, nurture, and protect those children. But the minute a man’s plans are interrupted because a woman tries to do one of the few jobs they are allowed to do, they are pushed back down. Stop blaming Mother for the problems you caused Robb. Take responsibility. Take it like a man should.”

“Fuck yea, Sansa!” Arya yelled, holding up a cup of ale in her direction.

Robb sent her a scowl. “Then how do you explain Cersei being queen; Or this Daenerys.” She gestured a hand towards the table where the raven scroll from Daenerys Targaryen lay.

“Robb, Cersei had to lose all of her children in order to claim that throne. She’s an evil woman, but the one thing she had that kept her sane where Myrcella and Tommen. Whatever is left of Cersei, it’s not even a shadow of who she once was. And Daenerys has had to fight tooth and nail too according to the rumors.” Sansa answered, shaking her head.

Jon looked thoughtfully down at the parchment on the table. He thought back to all of his visions of Daenerys. In every one she looked ferocious and determined. He felt drawn towards her, whether it was their shared blood or destiny, he didn’t know. They’d received the raven before yesterday’s proclamations in the great hall. It was a standard, come and bend the knee command. A rallying cry in front of the coming conqueror. Sansa immediately rejected the idea, she was terrified if any of them went, they wouldn’t be coming back. There were interesting developments with this Dragon Queen. She did in fact claim to have three fully grown dragons, he had no doubt they would help in the war against the Night King. She also had a large army of Dothraki and Unsullied, both legends here in Westeros. The most interesting thing for Sansa had been the position of the Hand of the Queen, however. Tyrion Lannister had made his way to Essos and allied himself with House Targaryen. An interesting development indeed.

“Speaking of Daenerys,” Arya started. “While I was in Braavos, there were many tales about her freeing slaves and raising dragons. All of them painted her as someone not to be fucked with. Are you at all concerned about how she’s going to react when you claim that Jon is a legitimate Targaryen and technically ahead of her in the line of succession?”

“Okay, again, I don’t want to be King.” Jon started. “Also, I don’t have an army big enough to make myself King.”

All three of his sibling-cousins rolled their eyes at him.

“Seriously, we’re not in any position to even be speaking about this…”Jon started.

“We have the North, the Vale, and the Riverlands most likely.” Sansa said. “That’s nearly half the Kingdoms!”

“The Riverlands may unite behind you all, because of your mother, but they don’t have to for me.” Jon answered.

“And truthfully,” Robb continued, “we don’t really know how loyal to us the Riverlands will be what with the Frey massacre and all that.”

“About that…”Arya said. She reached into her satchel down on the floor and pulled something out. She slowly placed the object on the table between them. They all looked down on it in horror. Sansa screamed, jumped up and ran to the window with her hand over her mouth. She looked like she was going to be sick. Jon didn’t know what to say or do he just dumbly looked from the object to Arya and back again. Arya appeared nervous, shrunk in a little on herself. It was Robb who spoke first.

“Why do you have Walder Frey’s face?” Robb asked, looking warily at Arya. “How do you have Walder Frey’s face?”

“Would you believe me if I said I was a trained assassin who can take the faces of dead people and appear as them? Sound like them?” She asked fast, trying to get it all out.

Robb and Sansa just stared at her, blinking slowly as if not processing.

“Wouldn’t be the strangest thing I’ve seen.” Jon said, taking a swig of ale. And it wouldn’t. He had seen so many crazy things he didn’t think he’d ever truly be surprised again. He had watched as an entire field of dead men, women, and children rose again. Everyone turned to look at him, but he just shrugged.

“So it was you?” Robb breathed. “You killed the Freys?”

“I was there that night, the one they call the red wedding. I was so close to you and Mother. Then as I came up on the castle, I realized what was happening. There was a body, Robb. Your body with Grey Wind’s head on top. They were parading you around.” Arya explained with tears in her eyes. “Even though now I know it wasn’t you, I still can’t get that image from my brain. That’s how they made it onto my list.”

“Your list?” They all echoed at the same time.

“You have a list?” Robb asked.

“Why do you have a list?” Jon asked at the same time.

“Who else is on this list?” Sansa asked.

“Yes, I have a list. I have a list because my entire family died, Jon. Cersei, Joffrey, Illyn Payne, basically anyone who was responsible for anything against our family.” Arya shrugged answering all of their questions. “What do you mean you’ve seen stranger things?” She asked Jon.

“Well, I’ve seen an army of dead people, come out of a cloud of snow. I’ve watched them roll over an army of living men like they were cyvasse pieces. Then I watched the Night King raise everyone that died in battle back to life.” Jon started. “Then after I tried to save everyone left in the North, I was branded a traitor and killed. A red priestess brought me back to life. Death just doesn’t have the same meaning anymore.”

Arya sat and just looked at him with wide eyes. Sansa had heard all of this before and was getting used to it, so she just sat back down and stared at Walder Frey’s face. Robb was still grasping everything, his forehead wrinkled in concentration.

“What red priestess?” Arya asked.

Jon looked at her, of all the things he had said, he didn’t think that would be her question. “Melisandre of Asshai. She served Stannis Baratheon for a time, and…”

“Oh, I know her. She’s fucking creepy, and I’m pretty sure she’s evil. Are you sure it’s still you in there?” Arya asked, half serious.

“How do you know her?” He asked back, ignoring her question, because who was he really?

“I met her when I was with the Brotherhood Without Banners. She came and bought Gendry from them, something about king’s blood. I’m pretty sure she killed him.” Arya finished, lowering her head.

“Wait, when were you with the Brotherhood?” Robb asked.

“Who’s Gendry?” Sansa questioned.

Arya waved them off. “It’s a long story, like I’m sure you both have as well. I’ll tell you another time. I have a more important question.” She turned to Jon. “Can you light your sword on fire with your blood?”

All three of them looked at Arya as if they didn’t understand. “What?” they all asked at the same time. Each one had a different tone. Sansa was nearly laughing, Robb looked sick, and Jon looked horrified.

“Thoros of Myr, you know the red priest that travels with Beric Dendarrion? He’s brought Beric back to life like five times or something. He did it once right in front of me. Now Beric can light his sword on fire with his blood! He just scrapes his palm on the blade and the whole thing goes up in flames! It’s actually really cool.” Arya said excitedly.

Robb turned to Jon. “Try it!” He demanded.

Suddenly, they were boys again, determined to try something that was really going to get them in trouble. The carefree and excited looks on Robb and Arya’s faces was enough for him. Sansa sat back; arms crossed over her chest. She didn’t look impressed, and she kept peeking at Walder Frey’s face as if it was going to jump at her.

Jon stood up and unsheathed Longclaw. He pressed the blade to his palm, and slowly drug it down the center of his hand. The cut hurt and stung, but he didn’t have time to focus on that when suddenly Longclaw’s blade was engulfed in flames. He jumped, and quickly held the blade out away from him. His eyes were huge as he felt the heat from the flames.

“Seven hells!” Robb exclaimed.

“Lightbringer!” Arya shouted excitedly.

Jon swung the sword a few times, getting used to the heat and flames. The sword kept the flames no matter what movement he did. That’s when he realized he didn’t know how to put it out. He looked at Arya, panicked. “How do I make it stop?” He asked loudly.

A look of horror dawned on her face. “I don’t know!” She exclaimed.

Jon swung the sword back and forth as he turned his body, looking for some way to douse the flames. He was starting to panic now. Robb’s eyes had widened so far that he could see white all around the blue.

“For fucks sake.” Came Sansa’s voice. She ran to the wall and tore down the curtains by the window. She came to Jon and threw them over Longclaw. Together they patted out all the flames. “You’re going to burn the whole damn keep down!” She said. “No more flaming swords inside.” She scolded, sounding so much like Catelyn that they all burst out laughing. The tension from the room was gone and they once again were four siblings reunited.

***

Jon, Robb, and Davos stood on the walkway above Winterfell’s courtyard. They watched as below Duran and his men were teaching young boys to fire arrows into targets. Jon had grown fond of the Hornwood commander and was grateful that he had decided to stay at Winterfell. The Hornwood army had split over the last few years due to all of the conflict in Westeros and the North. They were leaderless and House Hornwood seemed to be on the verge of collapse. The heir to the house had been killed in Robb’s army at Whispering Wood, and all that was left of the bannermen were here. Many had sought refuge with Lord Manderly, but without a liege lord to swear fealty to, House Hornwood would soon become extinct. There were whispers of a bastard son of the former lord, but if he survived, he hadn’t made it known yet. For now, Duran and his band of men would stay at Winterfell.

Directly below them Brienne was training with her squire, Podrick. Jon had offered to spar with her, but she said she didn’t have the energy to put up with him today. Around the corner came Arya. Despite her being back home at Winterfell, the young woman refused to dress like a lady. She was wearing brown leathers from neck to toe with a fur cloak. Jon smirked to see that she had her hair up like his, pulled back from the face but with half of it down and settling at her shoulders. She had Needle attached to her at the waist and a dagger also in her belt. She approached Brienne, sauntering up to the large woman. Brienne turned to look at her, something passing between the two women.

“I would like to spar with you, Lady Brienne.” Arya said, smirking. She unsheathed Needle and nodded for Podrick to move away. He did so reluctantly.

“That blade is too small, my lady.” Brienne responded nodding towards Needle.

“It’ll hold up, promise.” Arya responded.

Just then, Sansa and Baelish made their appearance on the walkway. They moved towards the men and looked down at what held their attention. Sansa and Baelish stopped to watch the brewing battle as well. “My money’s on Brienne.” Said Robb.

Jon looked at him and nodded. “I’ll take Arya.”

Arya took her stance across from Brienne. The fight almost looked like it had been planned, Jon thought. He watched as Brienne charged the tiny woman in front of her. Jon saw it in his mind before it happened. Arya, light on her feet started moving quickly, in and out of reach. Brienne was a good fighter, but too slow for Arya’s style. Needle held up against the blows Brienne was dealing with Oathkeeper. Jon was impressed that Arya knew how to keep her blade from snapping against the Valyrian steel. Arya kept weaving in and out, meeting Brienne’s heavy blows with light taps, wearing her opponent out. Brienne got frustrated and lashed out, kicking Arya in the chest. She looked horrified and Arya looked stunned for a brief moment, then she smiled and kicked her way back upright. The two were back at it quickly, but Jon could see the momentum had shifted to Brienne, she was moving forward and had Arya on the run. With a quick flick of the wrist, Needle was sailing through the air. Arya refused to yield, and Brienne worked up, swung at her. Arya drew her dagger with her right hand, and Brienne caught it and trapped it down where she couldn’t stab upwards. Arya flipped the dagger into her left hand and pointed it at Brienne’s neck as Brienne raised her sword at Arya. A draw.

The two women smiled at each other. Davos chuckled. Jon was fascinated. Robb looked impressed; Sansa terrified. It was hard to tell Baelish’s reaction, as his face was set in stone. All of them watched as Brienne and Arya exchanged a few words before starting to compare movements.

Sansa turned to them and spoke up then, “we’ve had another raven from Dragonstone.” She passed the scroll to Jon to read. Davos looked over his shoulder. When he was done, he passed it to Robb.

“Lord Baelish, give me a few moments with my brothers please.” Sansa asked Littlefinger politely. “Of course, my lady.” He said with a smirk.

“Well, this didn’t go as I’d planned.” Robb said.

“Surprise, surprise.” Sansa said, rolling her eyes. “Maybe you should have thought it through before announcing to an entire room of people that Jon was a legitimate Targaryen. A room that contained Petyr Baelish. You can bet the entire Seven Kingdoms knows about Jon by now.”

And apparently, they did. Winterfell had been receiving a ridiculous number of ravens in the past few days. Edmure Tully was one of the first they received. He had been released after the Frey massacre and was now back at Riverrun. He sent a message that swore his fealty and banners to House Stark, well more specifically Jaeherys Targaryen, as long as he “ousted the lion bitch and her cunt brother.” Then came the ravens from the keeps in the rest of the Riverlands and the Vale. Lady Olenna of Highgarden had a rather scathing remark about where he could shove his claim. Arianne Martell was curious, asking about his relation to Daenerys to whom she had sworn her armies. And the most threatening of them all, the one that Robb and Sansa were currently arguing over was from House Targaryen itself. They had already received a general message from Dragonstone weeks before that had gone unanswered but this one was more personal.

The missive read, “Queen Daenerys Targaryen, first of her name, demands that the pretender Jon Snow present himself at Dragonstone. My queen has already asked you to join her in the fight against Cersei only to be met with these outrageous claims of Targaryen legitimacy. If you do not comply, her next actions will be taken against you using dragon fire. Tyrion Lannister, Hand of the Queen.”

“This is what happens when you declare that you are the rightful heir to a house that already has a ruler.” Sansa said. “Did you think she was just going to roll over and give you her titles, her home, her family? She’s a queen with dragons!”

Davos turned to him then. “Your sister’s right. The claim in front of the Northern lords was rushed and foolhardy. You should have met with her first.”

“Yes, well we can’t do that now.” Robb said.

“I know that,” Davos said, glaring at Robb. “But perhaps if you’d have warned me before proclaiming your brother King, I could’ve advised differently.”

“So, you don’t think he should be King.” Robb pressed Davos.

“Of course, I think he should be King. But he needed more time to prepare, to gather support before you announced it to all of Westeros!” He screamed at Robb. “You come in here and drop this load of information on his head and expect him to just accept it right away! You were born and raised to be the Lord of a keep, to be Warden of the North. He was raised as your bastard brother. He wasn’t meant to have any of this and had to learn to be a leader the hard way. You want him to immediately stand up and be King, but Jon Snow isn’t a King, and that is what is going to make him the best ruler we’ve ever had!”

Jon placed his hand on Davos’s shoulder. “We all need to take a deep breath. The last thing we need right now is Daenerys Targaryen coming here with her dragons to burn us out of the keep. We should consider going to Dragonstone.”

Sansa looked at him as if he’d grown another head. Robb looked like he was ready to throw up, and even Davos looked concerned. They all started speaking at once.

“You can’t go to Dragonstone; she’ll kill you as soon as she sees you.” Davos said.

“Starks don’t fare well in the South, trust me.” Robb added.

“The last time a Stark went to treat with a Targaryen, they were suffocated and burned alive.” Sansa pointed out.

“I’m not a Stark.” Jon started. Both Robb and Sansa huffed at that. “I don’t think she’ll kill me if I go to her, but I definitely think she will if I don’t. Not only that, but it will bring all of her wrath here, to Winterfell, to our home. She has dragons, we need dragons to fight the Great War.” What they didn’t know, and he did was that for months now he had been dreaming of Daenerys Targaryen, and he’d had glimpses long before his brush with death. They might think she would kill him on sight, but he doubted it. He felt like he was being drawn to her, not pushed further away. There was a big part of him that was aching to meet her, and not because she was his family.

“This is a stupid idea. And you’re supposed to be the one that is not stupid.” Sansa said. “Father went south, Robb went south, and both failed. I love you, Robb, but you made stupid decisions that got people killed. This is that kind of stupid decision Jon!”

“Sansa…” She huffed and turned away; arms crossed. She was closed off and there was no way to meet her halfway on this.

He heard chain links rattling and turned to see Maester Wolkan approaching. He extended his hand with a raven scroll in it. “For you, Your Grace.” He handed it to Jon. Jon fought not to roll his eyes. The castle’s servants had taken to addressing him as a king, all of them. He had a sneaking suspicion that Sansa was behind it. They all trusted her, and she had been overheard by Robb telling the maids all about ‘King Jon’. He’d started bolting his door against them at night. If rumors were true, Robb stepped up where he didn’t. Jon didn’t want to think about Robb’s inability to not fuck anything that moved. He was more reserved about it now than he was as a boy, but he obviously still enjoyed the practice. Jon dismissed Maester Wolkan with a “thank you” and sent him on his way.

“It’s from Sam, at the Citadel.” Jon said.

“How did he know you were here and not at Castle Black?” Davos asked.

“I wrote to him after everything, I’ve been writing to him. Sam always manages to see things in a way I just can’t. A lot like you, Davos.” Jon said. Davos looked humbled by the compliment.

Jon gasped as he read. “What is it?” Asked Robb.

“I wrote to Sam asking him to look for sources of material we could use against the Others. Valyrian steel, and dragonglass. He found a source that says that all of Dragonstone rests upon a huge deposit of dragonglass! According to the figures in the source, there’s enough there to fashion weapons for everyone in the North.” Jon said excitedly. “There’s no way I can’t go now. I have to go to Dragonstone.”

His three companions exchanged anxious glances. “Then you’re not going alone.” Davos said.

Before they could decide who would be going with Jon to meet with Daenerys, there was a commotion at the front gate. Northerners had been entering all day, bringing supplies to support the castle. The latest was a large wagon full of wheat from a field in the Gift. But that wasn’t what drew all four Starks to the wagon, it was the passenger on it. Bran was home.

***

Jon thought his story was fucked up. Turned out Bran had them all beat. Bran told them all that evening about his travels north of the Wall with Meera and Jojen. Robb had been fascinated and excited to meet Meera after spending so much time with her father. They were all horrified when he told them how Summer and Hodor had given their lives to help him barely escape the Night King. Jon almost lost it when Bran explained that Uncle Benjen had been the one to help them get down to the Wall. It took all of them to calm him down. Then Bran explained his role as the Three-Eyed Raven. Robb and Sansa looked at him as if he were crazy, but Jon and Arya nodded in acceptance. There was a clear divide amongst the Starks between those who had interacted with actual magic and those that did not. Robb and Sansa were trying to remain supportive, but Jon could tell they were reaching their limits.

Bran looked at Jon. “He will come for you, Jon. He knows that you fight for the living and he’ll come for you.”

“I know.” Jon responded. And he did know. He knew from the moment that their eyes met at Hard Home that the final battle would come down to one of them. Him or the Night King. He just knew he didn’t have enough men, weapons, or tools yet. “How much time do we have, Bran?”

“The Wall will keep them out for a time, but the ancient magic is waning with the last of the Children gone and with me south.” Bran said, thinking hard on it. “I made a mistake and let him touch me in a vision.” Bran rubbed his arm and then lifted the sleeve. There on his forearm was a clear handprint. “I think it will allow him to follow me, but I had nowhere else to go. I don’t know what happens if he kills me, but I know it will be bad. I’d say based on his position, six months maybe. I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“Well, this settles it. I have to go to Dragonstone.” Jon said.

“Wait, what?” Said Sansa. “How does this ‘settle it’, Jon? Bran just told us that in six months’ time an army of the dead is going to come rushing through that wall and you’re going to run off to Dragonstone.”

“I’m not having this argument again, Sansa.” Jon said firmly. “The last time we went into a battle I let you dictate all of the preparations, but you don’t know this enemy. I do. Winterfell has to be fortified. We have to draw back every living person in the North here or further south. Trenches need to be dug, and people need to be trained. Every person needs to be ready to fight, everyone. I need to go to Dragonstone because we need dragonglass, dragons, and men. I’m never going to be able to convince Daenerys Targaryen to side with us if I don’t meet her in person.”

Sansa went to argue again. “Jon’s right.” Robb said instead. “He’s right Sansa, and you know he is. I know you don’t want to leave Winterfell; you don’t want any of us to, but we’re going to have to take some risks to get us ready. He won’t go alone. Davos will go with him, and so will I.”

“What? Robb…” Jon started.

“You need someone to bear witness for you, Jon. I’m the one who came and told you about your parents, and I’m the one who threw you out into the world. My word, Howland’s story, it’s the only shred of evidence we have right now, and it’s not enough. Davos was right, I was impulsive, and this is my mess now. I need to fix it.” Robb said.

“Take Arya too.” Sansa said. “You need someone who can blend in, and she can literally become anyone. I’m not sending you both there without some sort of protection.”

“Sansa, we don’t want to leave you here alone.” Robb said.

“I won’t be. I have Bran, and the smallfolk, and the Hornwoods, and the Knights of the Vale. I’m close to getting Littlefinger’s network. I’ve figured it out that they’re all women. Varys uses children as his ‘little birds’, but Baelish uses women. I think they’d rather work for another woman than that slimy character.” Sansa said adamantly. “Besides, preparing for winter, I can do that. I will do that.”

Jon nodded at Sansa. He was so proud of her strength, but still really worried for her. “We need to leave as quickly as possible. Have Wolkan reply to Tyrion to let him know we’re on the way. And I want to call the Lords together tomorrow, we need to decide what to do with Last Hearth, Karstark, Hornwood, and the Dreadfort. Any ideas?” He asked everyone.

“Give them to the people who fought for you. The ones who died for you.” Sansa suggested.

“I have every intention of keeping Last Hearth and Karstark with their original families. Both have young people who would take the roll as head of House.” Jon said. “I just don’t know what to do with the Dreadfort or Hornwood.” I’d like to have an idea before the meeting tomorrow.

“Give the Dreadfort to the Free Folk.” Davos said. Sansa was about to argue when he continued. “They fought and died, right along with the Northmen. Also, you need somewhere for them that’s not Winterfell. They’re making everyone nervous and increasing the tension. If it is going to be six months or more, you need to give them their own place.”

Sansa nodded reluctantly. “I don’t like the idea of giving them a major keep, but we do need them away from everyone else. Plus, if we give them the Dreadfort I’m sure the Boltons won’t mind.” She said with an evil smile.

“That leaves Hornwood.” Jon said. “I want to ask Duran what he thinks, he deserves it after all of his service. They’re leaderless right now and it will become a problem sooner than later.”

They sent for Duran Feller, the commander of the Hornwoods. He had become a favorite with the Starks for his affection with Sansa, his stalwart character, and his good humor. He came and stood before them.

“How can I be of service, Your Grace?” He asked, looking at Jon. Jon sighed, he’d just have to get used to it then.

“Duran, we need to establish a leader amongst your men and there is Castle Hornwood to consider. We understand your lord has passed away and so has his heir. Do you have any thoughts?” Jon asked.

“There are several Hornwoods that married into other noble houses, Tallhart comes to mind first, but I have a rather different suggestion.” Duran answered.

“Yes.” Jon signaled for him to continue.

“Lord Halys had a bastard son, Larence Snow. He’s an honorable man, he’s fought with us for years and is in my company now.” Duran started.

“I’ve met Larence.” Sansa said. “It was his idea to rally the countryside into helping us win Winterfell. He pushed for it strongly, felt that the smallfolk had just as much reason to fight as nobility.”

Duran nodded. “He was raised with his brother, Daryn much like you, Your Grace, and Robb.”

“Daryn was a good man, loyal and true.” Robb added. “Jaime Lannister killed him in battle.”

Duran continued. “Yes, both brothers were the best of the stock. Anyway, if I had to pick who inherits Castle Hornwood and its men, I would choose Larence Snow.”

Sansa sighed. “We can’t give it to a bastard.”

“Why the fuck not?” Arya chimed in. “You’re giving the Dreadfort to the wildlings!”

Jon held up his hand. “I was raised a bastard, Duran, and yet people still followed me. I think people are coming to see that the character of a man is far more important than the circumstances of their birth. He may not have the name, but he obviously has your allegiance. That’s enough for me.”

“Jon…” Sansa hissed.

“His father’s not here, his brother’s not here, through Larence the Hornwoods will live on, bastard or not.” Jon said.

Jon dismissed everyone out of the room, except for Sansa. “Sansa, I know you don’t agree with the decision…”

“Honestly, I could care less.” Sansa said back with a shrug. “But the Northern Lords will care. Their allegiance to you is brand new and fragile. I would be careful how far you push them. It didn’t take too long before there was dissent against Robb, and he was the golden child of the North. I still don’t know what to believe about this army of the dead, but you’re determined that they’re coming, and something tells me there won’t be another warning.”

“If I go to Dragonstone, what’s the likelihood that the houses turn on us?” Jon asked seriously. 

Sansa took a deep breath. “I’ll do what I can to keep things together here, but my advice is to get business done fast down there and come back. It would also help if you had a position within House Targaryen when you do. I was serious when I said that Daenerys Targaryen is not just going to give up because you and Robb say that you’re a true born Targaryen. It’s going to take a lot more than that.”

He nodded and excused himself. They would be leaving Winterfell in the morning and there was something he needed to do before he left his home. Jon made his way to the entrance to the crypts. No one had stopped him on the way, but many people had nodded and bowed to him. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be king, it was just that he had no ambition for the role. Also, part of him felt like he was living up to every bad thing people said about bastards in claiming his position.

Jon walked down the row of statues to stand before one he had never spent a great deal of time at. Lyanna Stark was said to have been a beautiful woman, wild like Arya. Jon thought it was cruel that his whole life, his mother had been right below his feet. He wondered if Ned had lived, if he’d ever know.

“I don’t know what your intentions were for me, or how you would feel about all of this, but I hope I’ve done something to make you proud.” Jon started softly. “I want to know everything about you, and about my father. It seems cruel to me that nearly everyone who ever knew either one of you is gone. I will always be a Stark, but now I have to learn to be a Targaryen. I hope you found peace, mother. Finally knowing who I am has brought some measure of it to me.”

He stood in the crypts for a long while, staring at the stone likeness of his mother. There were still so many questions to be answered. How could they have married if Rhaegar already was? Did they love each other truly? Did she regret her choices as she laid on her deathbed? They were questions he’d likely never get answers to, and because he didn’t have the answers, he’d most likely find himself facing a dragon soon.

They met with the lords that evening, to explain their plans and to have the new Lords and Lady swear fealty to House Stark, and King Jon. Reluctantly, the other lords agreed. Jon, Robb, Arya, and Davos set off the next day for Dragonstone. Ghost kept pace along the road with them. As they rode away, Jon took one last look at his home, Sansa standing on the battlements. He hoped this wasn’t the last time he’d set eyes on Winterfell.


	8. Daenerys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daenerys spends some time with her bestie. She learns more about the history of her family. She finally meets Jon Snow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully a new chapter will take away the post-christmas blues! Plus in another few days we'll be done with 2020!! 
> 
> This is it, we've finally gotten to the Targaryen meet cute. lol. The dialogue of their meeting follows pretty close to the show with some notable differences, but from here we diverge pretty quickly from what happened on the show.
> 
> I hope you enjoy and thank you for your kudos and comments!
> 
> Thank you to AbstractlySydney for your tireless work being the beta for this fic!

Daenerys relaxed back into the large hot pool and breathed in the steam around her. The hot springs had become her refuge, and her time to visit with her sons. Drogon and Viserion seemed to be nearly recovered from their encounter with the dragon horn, but Rhaegal was still curled in the corner of the cave. Every once in a while, he would twitch or shiver and send a bout of flame across the cave. During one of her visits last week, he had made a desperate attempt to escape. She watched panicked as Drogon and Viserion dug their claws and teeth into their brother to keep him in the cave. She had cried for hours afterward. Dany could sense Rhaegal’s confusion and desperation. Drogon was nearing the end of his patience as well. She was terrified for the future of her emerald-colored child. Her neck rested on the lip of the pool as she looked over at her friend. Missandei had slowly been making her way into the hot spring, she started with her feet, to standing up to her knees, now she stood on the edge of the pool with her lower half below the water line and her breasts above it.

“Are you ever going to try sitting down on the ledge in here?” She asked Missandei, amused.

“Maybe someday, Your Grace.” Missy answered. “Not all of us are built to withstand boiling water.” She lifted her arm out of the water to show Dany where the water had hit her. Missandei’s skin had turned deeper with a light pink undertone, her arm slightly swollen from the heat.

“It’s not boiling,” Dany answered. “Just scalding.”

Missandei splashed water in Dany’s direction. “That’s the same thing!” She yelled while laughing. “I don’t know how you relax in this.” She said to Daenerys.

“Ahhh…” Dany sighed. “Soaking in here is one of the great stress relievers in life, one of the things you don’t need a partner to do for you.” She smirked in Missandei’s direction. “Are you going to tell me what happened between you and Greyworm, or am I left to guess?”

Missandei’s skin flushed even more if possible. “A great many things happened, Your Grace.”

“Missandei, I think you can call me Dany if we’re going to talk about this, you are my friend after all.” Dany said teasingly.

“We’re not going to talk about it, Your Grace.” Missandei replied with a smirk.

“Please Missy, I need some entertainment, let me live through you!” Dany returned.

Missandei was a beautiful woman. She was much taller than Daenerys and where Dany’s skin was all milk, Missy was all copper. Her bright golden eyes shown with intelligence, but more importantly, kindness. Her body was sculpted perfection, and she was the perfect distraction for some of the men Daenerys had to treat with over the years. Dany wasn’t ignorant, she knew she was considered to be one of, if not the most beautiful woman in the world. She thought Missy had her beat by a mile. Where she was hard and cold, Missy was soft and warm. Even when criticizing you, Missandei had a way of making you feel as if you were the most perfect person in the world. Not that Missy criticized her often. In fact, she seemed oblivious to most of Dany’s faults. That was the primary reason Dany didn’t consider her an advisor, but more of a friend. She needed someone like Tyrion to guide her, someone not afraid to state what was wrong, to comment when she had gone too far. But she wasn’t ever going to sit and relax with Tyrion in the hot springs, that’s where Missy came in. Also, she really never, ever wanted to know more about Tyrion’s nighttime activities. But this was what a best girlfriend was for.

“Greyworm explained some of his history with me.” Missy started. “He explained his feelings for me, and how deep he felt them. I know there will never be children between us, and many pleasures will be denied to us, but I care for him. He is very important to me. He is brave and strong, kind and selfless, he fights for what he believes is right, not just for you. He is the best man I’ve ever known.”

“And…” Dany pressed.

“And he has a very talented tongue, Your Grace.” Missandei said haughtily.

“Dany.” She corrected.

“Fine. Dany.” Missy laughed. “Have you ever had a man…do these things to you?”

Dany sighed. “My first experiences with a man were at the hands of Khal Drogo. The Dothraki are not known for their gentleness or generosity. He was not as giving as Greyworm. The only other lover I have taken is Daario and he was very eager to please me. He did try…many things but it was never that enjoyable. Maybe I’m just not built to feel pleasure from that experience.”

“Greyworm was very enjoyable.” Missy said. “Perhaps it is Daario who was lacking in talent, not you in feeling. We could find you a man to experiment with.”

Dany laughed, “The last thing I need right now is a man panting behind me as I take the Seven Kingdoms. Besides I need to be open to any type of alliance that may come along. That would be complicated if I were dragging my lover to bed every night.”

“Is that why you left Daario behind?” Missy asked.

“Partly, he also was growing too attached, too used to his position. He liked the attention that being with me afforded him.” Dany responded.

“Do you really think you’ll enter into a marriage?” Missy asked. “Maybe this Jon Snow? Or his brother or cousin? Robb Stark?”

They finally had received a reply from the North. Jon Snow, or Jaehaerys Targaryen, however he was styling himself was on his way to Dragonstone. Accompanying him was his brother, Robb Stark, or if the rumors were true, his cousin. Dany didn’t know how she felt about this development. She felt like she had been waiting years to meet the mysterious Northerner who appeared so often in her dreams. She was sure it was this Jon Snow, and she was just as sure that he was in fact a Targaryen. Why else would she be dreaming of him? Be connected to him? The only question was where they went from here. She told no one that she believed this Jon Snow was in fact a Targaryen. She didn’t want anyone to have an ammunition to take her claim away. Dany had worked so hard to get here, had fought so many battles and overcome so many enemies to make it this far. She was the one with the armies, and the dragons, why should she cede to a man? Even if he was technically ahead of her in line to the throne. She wondered not for the first time what he looked like. How did a Targaryen hide in the North for so long? And with the family most loyal to the usurper?

“Do you think he will be handsome at least?” Missandei asked, breaking her from her musing.

“If he’s truly a Targaryen he will be.” Dany said with a smirk. “As for marriage, I don’t know what will happen on that front. Maybe I’ll just have to wait and see which one I prefer. Tyrion says they’re both my age. He also said they were both…” Dany coughed, and used a deeper voice, ‘considered handsome’.”

Both of the women laughed at that. Why did men think it was so weird to call others handsome? Women had no problem saying another was beautiful.

“Are you nervous about their arrival?” Missy asked.

“I don’t know if I’m afraid, per say. I’m looking forward to knowing for sure where they stand. We need to start moving on Cersei. The Unsullied are at Casterly Rock, they took it easily, which tells me that the Dothraki are going to see some conflict near Highgarden soon.” Dany mused. “It would be nice to know what the other three kingdoms are up to.”

Missandei took a deep breath. “Alright, I can’t stand it any longer, I’m getting out.” Dany giggled at her as she stood from the pool and walked toward her discarded clothes on the stone bench at the wall. They had also brought sheets of linen with them to dry off their bodies.

Missy smiled back at her as she dried off. “Maybe this should be your first test of the pretender. Bring him here and see if he can withstand the hot springs, and your sons.”

“No! The hot springs are mine! They are not to be shared unless it is with someone trusted.” Dany said imperiously. “I will not give up my refuge to anyone, particularly not a pretender.”

She and Tyrion had discussed at length what would happen if Jon Snow was a pretender, and if he was not. Tyrion assured her he had no desire to leave her in favor of a male heir. He had met Jon Snow briefly when he went to tour the Wall. He said Jon was honorable, if not a little naïve. No doubt years in the Night’s Watch had cured him of any of his naivety. She was still confused how a man who had sworn oaths to a brotherhood, which lasted until death, was free to come south, let alone claim to be king. Tyrion also said the man had not been prone to flights of fancy and was clear in his role as a bastard. Another reason Dany believed he was telling the truth about his birth. Why lie about being the heir to the Seven Kingdoms if you were a bastard from a Northern house?

There was another part to all of this that she’d never admit to anyone. The dreams she’d been having of Jon Snow, she was positive it was him; they were not familial. Every morning after one of the vivid visions she awoke in her bed with a fine layer of sweat all over her body. Her adrenaline surged and she was warm and wet between her legs. She had wanted to meet this dream man for some time, but she hadn’t thought of the possibility that he could end up an enemy. It threw her off balance. She wanted to be fully prepared for the upcoming meeting. The Starks were not going to have more of an advantage than they already did over her. She would know more about their world than they did. A new determination set in. She stood up abruptly in the spring, causing Missy to jump.

“Missandei, I need to see Tyrion, and I need your help.” Dany said strongly.

“Of course, Your Grace, I will assist however I can.” Missandei answered back, already back to her formal self.

“We need to study the North, the Vale, and the Riverlands. I want to know more about these three kingdoms than any maester.” Dany said determined. “I will not be made a fool of. I will be prepared.”

***

Daenerys stared out the large window towards mainland Westeros. A few weeks ago, she would have been able to see the Dothraki if she squinted hard enough towards the Crownlands. Now they were already settled in the fields surrounding Highgarden. Lady Olenna had written to tell her they had arrived. Her remaining grandsons, Willas and Garlan had taken a keen interest in the camp outside of their gates. Garlan seemed to think that it was the end of the world that the savages had settled near the rich farmlands, but Willas was curious enough to venture into the rowdy crowd. Olenna wrote that she had seen an awakening of her youngest grandson, who normally rarely left the library of their keep. She also reported she had had no issues with the large khalasar, save that the nights had become rather loud. The Reach’s bannermen however, had taken issue. Particularly Lord Randyll Tarly had voiced his displeasure at House Tyrell’s newest allies. Olenna said that if he had serious concerns, he was more than welcome to voice them to the queen with three dragons at her behest.

Dany had smirked at that, but also winced. The largest force of her power in Westeros came from her sons. She knew that gaining power here would be difficult, if not impossible without them. There was a voice in her head that questioned if she’d ever be able to rely on them again, especially with the dragon horn still in Euron’s possession. Euron was becoming the biggest thorn in her side in this war. He had most of his ships docked at King’s Landing, presumably he was still spending time with Cersei, but it was only a matter of time before he would set sail again, and she couldn’t afford to be caught unaware this time. The Unsullied had successfully sailed to Casterly Rock, but Dany felt their luck on the seas was wearing out. Theon Greyjoy was still a shell of the man she met in Meereen and she knew there was a lot of trouble brewing with her remaining Iron Fleet.

The castle was quiet, devoid of most of her Dothraki and Unsullied, apart from the small contingency that had stayed behind with her. She hadn’t felt this alone since her time traveling to Qarth with her small retinue. Even then, she had had Jorah with her. Arianne and her Dornish companions provided most of the entertainment around the castle now. The princess had elected to stay on Dragonstone rather than sail home to Sunspear, fearing a run in with Euron on the seas and waiting for any final word on Ellaria and Tyene. Dany turned to look at the painted table behind her. Wooden figures symbolizing her men and those of her allies were placed carefully on the table in the appropriate places. The Dothraki at Highgarden, the Unsullied in the Westerlands at Casterly Rock. The armies of the Dorne and the Reach were assembling at Kingsgrave, a keep in the Red Mountains in Northern Dorne. It was a quiet region, one that should go unnoticed by Cersei. The armies would march on King’s Landing soon since the Dothraki and Unsullied were both in place.

The supply lines from the Reach to the capital had slowed to a trickle and people were starting to notice. Lord Staunton, her ally in the Crowlands reported that many of the noble families that could leave King’s Landing were returning to their keeps. Most had lost someone in the tragedy at the Sept of Baelor and were already angry with Cersei’s rule, combined with the lack of resources, most saw a dismal future in King’s Landing and got out of the city. Tyrion had counseled her that the exodus would not go unnoticed and soon Cersei would close the gates to the city. This is the part that scared Dany the most. There were so many commoners who would suffer under this plan. She reasoned that it would be worse for them if she was forced to burn them out with the dragons, nevertheless, they had to be prepared to assist the smallfolk as soon as possible.

She, Tyrion, Varys, and Missandei had spent most of the night before studying the painted table and in particular the Northern Kingdoms. She now knew every keep from the Twins to Gulltown to Deepwood Motte. Every major family name and sigil burned into her brain. Tyrion and Varys had tried to get her the most updated version of events in the North, but both found a block in their communication line. Neither could tell what the holdup was, but Varys was sure it was Petyr Baelish’s presence at Winterfell. Apparently, Varys and Baelish had competing networks of agents. While Varys used children to provide him the latest information, Baelish used women. Dany could see the benefits and drawbacks to both strategies, although if she were honest, she preferred the use of adults that could make that decision for themselves. She remembered what it was like growing up on the streets with Viserys. There wasn’t much choice when it came to survival. If someone had offered them money or food in exchange for information, she doubted they would have turned it down. At least an adult had more say in what happened to them. She distrusted Varys and told Tyrion this after the bald man had left the room.

_ “Are we sure about Varys?” Dany asked Tyrion. Missandei turned to Dany with raised eyebrows and Tyrion froze in his seat. _

__

_ He looked at her with tired eyes, they had been at the map all night. “He brought me to you, Your Grace. He had every intention of bringing you back to Westeros.” _

__

_ Daenerys thought for a long moment. “Varys also had an allegiance, or still does with Illyrio Mopatis.” Tyrion looked at her curiously. “The man who favored Viserys to be king, and in attempting that bid for power, sold me to the Dothraki in exchange for their allegiance.” _

__

_ Tyrion winced at that. “Varys is driven by who he thinks would be best for all people on the throne.” _

__

_ “And what does he do when he decides the current ruler no longer meets his qualifications?” Dany asked. “He served my father, and the usurper, and was in the service of the crown when he left King’s Landing with you. You don’t think it’s curious that despite his reservations about those rulers, he continued to serve?” _

__

_ “He always seems to be one step ahead of everyone else. It’s nearly impossible to get one over on Varys.” Tyrion said back, taking a gulp of wine. “But he always favors the ruler he believes would be the best for the common good.” _

__

_ “And Viserys would have been best for the common good?” Daenerys asked heatedly, pressing her Hand. “I wonder if he still would have favored him if he knew that Viserys was stupid, weak, and cruel, an imitation of what everyone tells me my father was.” _

__

_ Tyrion looked concerned at that. “I don’t know what to say, Your Grace. I do believe Varys has the best intentions towards you and wants you on the throne. What is really concerning you about him?” _

__

_ “Tyrion, in a few days’ time a man will arrive that claims he is the trueborn son of my elder, beloved brother. What are the chances that Varys decides that this Jon Snow, Jaehaerys Targaryen, however he’s styling himself, is the better pick? What then? Does he kill me to get what he thinks is the better option?” Dany asked seriously. _

__

_ Tyrion took a deep breath. “I’d like to say that he stays with you until the end, but obviously we both know that he’s more than capable of switching sides.” Missandei’s eyes glowed with fiery anger. _

__

_ “Tyrion, I need you to understand what I’m about to say. If he betrays me, I will burn him alive.” Dany said fiercely. _

__

_ Tyrion nodded his head, resigned. “I understand, and I wouldn’t blame you. You are after all the Mother of Dragons.” _

Daenerys was brought back to the present with the arrival of Maester Cressen. “Your Grace, the ship carrying your Northern arrivals have been spotted by the tower. We should expect the arrival of your guests within the next few hours.”

“Thank you, maester.” Dany responded. She looked at the old man curiously. She’d been meaning to speak with him for some time, and maybe a conversation with him would distract her. “Can I ask you…” she paused for a long moment. She had so many questions she didn’t know where to begin.

“About your family, Your Grace?” Cressen’s eyes had lit up and a softness entered his face. “I would be happy to share anything you wish to know. It has been my great honor to serve Dragonstone for most of my life, and as a result I served your family. I loved your family. Well, most of them.”

Dany smiled at that. “Was my father always mad? Could you see it from a young age?”

Maester Cressen sat at the seat near the Vale on the table and faced her at her seat at Dragonstone. “At the beginning, Aerys was a decent man, and a good king. The Kingdoms had peace and prosperity, but he was always divided in nature, Your Grace. He had an ability to be very kind, but then very cruel, he was intelligent, but then paranoid, prone to fits of rage. As a younger man, he was plagued by visions, saw things that I could never understand or help interpret. The longer your parents went losing children, either in the womb, or outside of it, he drew further away. Your mother bore a lot of the darker sides of his personality. It was the imprisonment at Duskendale that he really fell to that side of his nature. He stopped bathing, his nails grew long, and he stopped visiting Dragonstone all together.” Cressen sighed. “I wish I could say I didn’t see his madness coming, but I’m afraid I did, I watched it slowly consume him. Maesters are bound by their oaths to serve the families who rule their assigned keeps, it is one of the most frustrating rules to those of us who watch. The inability to interfere.”

Dany thought about that for a long moment. Why should a maester be forced to sit back and watch someone descend into madness? Why should the council of a king? There was a nagging thought in the back of her mind about this, the need for something to be in place so a king like Aerys could never sit unquestioned on the throne again. “Tell me about Rhaegar, Maester Cressen. I once spoke to Ser Barristan Selmy about him, but I need to know if it’s possible that this Jon Snow is actually his son. The rumors say he kidnapped and raped Lyanna. If that’s true, why would he have married her and produced a legitimate heir?”

“Rhaegar Targaryen was everything a Prince of Dragonstone should be.” Cressen’s face lit up. “He was handsome and intelligent. He was a great mixture of gentle and commanding. He was so skilled with a sword, only Arthur Dayne could best him. Once I even saw them practice with double blades in the courtyard, each wielding two swords at a time.” Cressen mimicked by swinging his arms around slightly. “He was also a musician, he played harp the best.”

“Barristan told me he would go out and perform for the smallfolk in King’s Landing.” Daenerys said with a smile.

“Yes, he did that quite often, here on Dragonstone as well. The common people were very familiar with your brother.” Cressen smiled back. “He was also a good husband and father. There wasn’t a lot of passion between him and Elia, but he had great respect and for her and adored his children.”

Dany could sense there was more to this than what Cressen was saying. “But…” she pressed.

Maester Cressen looked at her with a tight smile. “In his last few years, Rhaegar became rather interested in prophecy. He too started telling me of visions he would have. Vivid dreams about the Prince that Was Promised, about a coming war. I know he felt that a third child was necessary for some reason.”

Daenerys grew quiet as she thought back to her visions in the House of the Undying. She had seen Rhaegar speaking to Elia about this. ‘The dragon needs three heads.’ She shivered.

“Would those visions be enough to spur him to take another wife? Father a third child with her?” Dany asked him.

“You tell me, Your Grace.” Cressen said looking at her sharply. “Visions are common in your family. I have no doubt that the woman who brought dragons back into the world has probably had a few of her own. No?”

“I do have visions, most of them come true.” Dany admitted. “But I don’t know if they’re drawing me to make decisions or if they’re coming true because I’m making those decisions. Does that make sense?”

Maester Cressen nodded. “Targaryens are magic, born in Valyria. I have no doubt it’s probably a mixture of both.”

Daenerys shivered as she thought about her latest visions. A blue rose in a wall of ice and a pair of grey eyes. Was it her family’s magic pulling them together? Was she forcing the vision to come true? Or was it all just destiny?

***

Daenerys took a deep breath as she sat on the throne in the great hall of Dragonstone. Tyrion stood off to the side, closer to the receiving area, and Missandei stood on the other side, closer to her physically. These were familiar places for all of them, even though the venue had changed. Long gone were the beige walls of the Great Pyramid of Meereen, and there was no trickle of water into the fountains at the base of the throne. Instead, the large candelabras that hung from the ceiling and dripped with wax from their candles lit up the dark stone of the walls. The throne was much closer to the ground, but the hall was much longer, she would see her guests long before they reached her. The Unsullied stood at the entrances to the room, their spears held steadily and their posture perfect. The Dothraki lined the hall and were nearly the exact opposite, standing with their legs spread apart, hands on their belts, arakhs clearly visible but not in hand. Red Flea and Qhono, her personal guards, stood slightly closer to her on either side than her advisors. All of her forces had been dressed for the harsher climate, but the colors still matched their origins. The Unsullied in the blacks of their uniforms and the Dothraki in the light brown furs.

The throne of Dragonstone was imposing, as it was meant to be. The bulk of it was made up of dark volcanic rock, the slabs set at an angle, as the natural stone on the beach had been. The black rock infused with strains of dark red. The direct back of the seat however had been carved to appear as dragon scales. The rock a thick white granite. Everything about the throne was meant to convey power and authority, and while Dany was comfortable in it, she couldn’t deny she felt a bit swallowed. This throne had held the power of her family for hundreds of years. It was the seat of authority for the heir to the Iron Throne and today she would make that claim to her visitors. Movement came from the passageway off to the side. She nearly panicked, thinking her men were bringing the Northerners in the wrong way when she realized it was Arianne and her Dornishmen coming to see the arrival of the supposed Targaryen king. She jumped slightly when Theon Greyjoy and his Iron Born also appeared in the throne room. Dany sighed. Her nerves were shot. This wasn’t just her meeting a rival to the throne. She was about to meet the man she had been dreaming about for years, the man her visions were leading her to find.

After several more minutes of waiting, the large doors in front of her finally opened. The Unsullied stepped through first, followed by three men and a giant white creature. At first, she thought it might be a polar bear but then realized the huge mass of fur was a wolf, a giant, pure white wolf. The creature reached the shoulder of the men it stood with. The three men were all dressed as if they were surrounded by snow, covered by heavy, furred cloaks. The older man had a grey beard that had at some point been black, but he was long passed those days. His cloak was thinner than the other two and his clothes not as thick. He had a pouch hanging around his neck, which Tyrion had told him contained the remnants of fingers chopped off by Stannis Baratheon. This was Ser Davos Seaworth. The man on the far right was very attractive. His hair and beard were clipped close to his face and he had crystal clear blue eyes. There were obvious laugh lines around them, but today, no part of his face was smiling. The dark auburn curls and direwolf insignias made it obvious that she was looking at Robb Stark, the former King in the North. But it wasn’t either of these men that truly caught her interest. It was caught and held by the man standing in the middle, supported on either side by the knight and the former king and a direwolf at his shoulder.

Her world narrowed to the man called Jon Snow. He wasn’t a big man, not compared to Drogo, but he was obviously heavily muscled and wide in the shoulders. Those shoulders were covered by a thick fur cloak that had direwolves meticulously embroidered into the leather straps. The metal breastplate beneath it also held twin direwolves facing each other. His leather jerkin and gambeson were both an unflattering brown. Brown was not his color, especially not with the darkness of his features. She couldn’t help but think that he was wearing an awful lot of clothes. He certainly didn’t look like a Targaryen at first glance. If the rumors were true, she could see how he could have hidden all his life in the North. His face was long and pale, scars framed his eyes. His eyes were a dark color she couldn’t quite see, something she would have to inspect closer. His beard was also neatly trimmed and was as jet black as his hair, which she could see was full of curls. Every part of her reacted to the man in front of her. He truly looked wild, like he belonged in the North. There was a sharpness to his cheekbones, and a broodiness in his face that she could see might just be Targaryen. Despite her orders to have the men disarmed when they arrived, he still had his sword attached to his left hip, the pommel a replica of the giant wolf standing next to him. For minutes that seemed like an eternity, she and this stranger just stared at each other, barely breathing.

“You stand in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn, of House Targaryen, Rightful Heir to the Iron Throne, Rightful Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, The Mother of Dragons, The Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, The Unburnt, The Breaker of Chains.” Missandei’s strong voice echoed throughout the room.

All three men watched her curiously, not saying a word. Jon turned to Robb, who shrugged. He then looked at Davos, panicked. Davos looked up at the throne. “This is Jon Snow,” he paused. “He’s King in the North.” Smiles appeared on several faces in the room at the humble and direct entrance of Jon Snow.

Daenerys did her best not to look amused. “Thank you for traveling so far, my lord. I hope the seas weren’t too rough.” She said haughtily. She deliberately refused to acknowledge his claim of King and spoke to him as if he were simply a lord of a faraway keep.

“The winds were kind, Your Grace.” Jon said good naturedly, obviously catching her tone.

“Your Grace, I know Ser Davos has a thick accent,” started Robb Stark. “But my brother Jon Snow is King in the North, Your Grace. He isn’t a lord.”

“That’s not all he's claiming to be king of, if the rumors are true, Lord Stark.” Tyrion returned, glaring at the younger man.

“Forgive me, I never did receive a formal education, but I could have sworn I’d read the last King in the North, before your failed campaign, was Torrhen Stark. And he bent the knee to my ancestor Aegon Targaryen. In exchange for his life, and the lives of the Northmen, Torrhen Stark swore fealty to House Targaryen in perpetuity.” Daenerys said harshly.

“So, your claim rests upon the fact that your ancestor forced ours to bend the knee or he was going to burn everyone alive?” Jon asked, his temper meeting hers. “If that’s the kind of Westeros you’ve come here to claim, then we will probably find ourselves on opposite sides of the battlefield.”

“According to you, he’s your ancestor as well. Or are you no longer claiming to be the legitimate son of my brother Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark?” Daenerys asked, her fire getting the best of her. She could hear Arianne chuckle darkly off to the side.

She didn’t take her eyes from her opponent. There was a dark look in Jon Snow’s eye, a fire had been lit within him. “The claim was made, Your Grace, and it is the truth, but I came here in good faith to speak with you, to see if we could be allies instead of enemies.”

“So, you’re here to bend the knee.” Daenerys said with a smirk.

Jon’s shoulders squared as he stood solidly before her. “I’m not.”

Daenerys took a deep breath, sucking in air harshly. “Well, that is unfortunate, you’ve traveled all this way to what? Break faith with House Targaryen? Come sow seeds of dissent amongst my allies?”

“Break faith?” He questioned, snapping like a wolf. He walked toward her with several long strides, his direwolf moving in behind him. She tried not to be distracted by the display of dominance, or his eyes which she could now see were a dark grey. “Your father burned by grandfather alive, he burned my uncle alive, he would have burned the Seven Kingdoms if not stopped.”

“My father…” she began. “was an evil man. On behalf of House Targaryen, I ask your forgiveness for the crimes he committed against your family.” Jon turned back to look at Robb who was standing with his fists clenched at his sides. “And I ask you not to judge a daughter by the sins of her father. Unless you also would like to take responsibility seeing as he was your grandfather.” She raised her eyebrows at him. “The Starks and Targaryens were allies for centuries of peace in Westeros. All I ask is that the North come back under my rule. I will name you, or your brother Warden of the North, and together we will destroy our mutual enemy, Cersei Lannister. You have no way to prove your legitimacy as a member of House Targaryen, the throne is mine.”

Jon looked around the room, he made eye contact with Tyrion, and turned his head back to Davos. That was telling. He trusted the old man more than he trusted the advice of his brother. “You’re right.” He began, facing her again, his chin going up in a defiant gesture. “You’re not guilty of your father’s crimes, and I am not beholden to my ancestor’s vows. As for proof of my legitimacy, we may never have that, but people believe it. Belief is all that’s needed to sow dissent.”

Her face grew stormy. “Then why are you here?”

“Because I need your help and you need mine.” He said staring into her eyes.

She turned to look at Tyrion. What was she missing that Jon Snow thought she needed his help? “I have three dragons, an alliance with half the kingdoms of Westeros, the Unsullied, and the Dothraki.” She gestured at her men around the room. “Tell me Jon Snow, why do I need you?”

“Not to defeat Cersei, you could attack King’s Landing tomorrow and the city would fall.” Robb Stark said. “Hell, Davos and Stannis almost took it, and they didn’t have any of that shit.”

“Almost.” Tyrion said, glaring at Davos.

“But you haven’t.” Said Jon, ignoring the play between their advisors, looking solely at her. “And that tells me something about you. You care enough to save a city from dragon fire, which makes you at the very least, better than Cersei.”

“Still, that doesn’t explain why I need your help.” Daenerys countered.

“Because Cersei doesn’t matter. This game of thrones you’re playing down here with her, doesn’t matter.” Jon said harshly. Robb moved slightly in the background, belligerence showing on his face. She knew the losses he had suffered against the Lannisters, and yet his brother was standing before her saying the conflict with her didn’t matter?

“Game, you think the control of Westeros is a game to me?” Daenerys asked.

“Your Grace, you, and everyone you know will die before winter is over if we don’t defeat the enemy to the North.” Jon said vehemently, his voice rising, air puffing out of his lungs.

“As far as I can see, you are the enemy to the North.” Daenerys glared back at him.

“I am not your enemy. The dead are the enemy.” He said.

Daenerys was speechless as she watched this proud Northern warrior in front of her. There was an inferno in his eyes, the blaze catching and igniting her own. “The dead?” She questioned with skepticism. There was scoffing in the direction of the Dornish, but the Greyjoys remained silent.

“The army of the dead are on the march.” Jon said.

“The army of the dead?” Tyrion repeated sarcastically.

“I know, it’s far-fetched and hard to believe. You don’t know me well, my lord, but do you think me a liar or a madman?” He asked Tyrion.

“No, I don’t think you’re either of those things.” Tyrion responded.

“The army of the dead is real, the White Walkers are real, the Night King is real. All of those nightmares from our childhood, they’re worse than you can imagine.” Jon said darkly. “I’ve seen them, and if they get past the wall, well, Your Grace, we’re finished. All of us. They don’t stop, ever. When they’re done with the North, they’ll continue moving south, until all you’re ruling over is a graveyard.” Daenerys looked at him skeptically and she could see the man sigh. “I don’t have proof to put before you, I don’t have a dead man walking to drag in here, truth be told, I didn’t want to try. I can tell you that I’ve seen these things with my own eyes, I am their witness.”

Daenerys took a deep breath. “I was born here at Dragonstone, until I was ferried away to save me from the wrath of your father and his allies. Robert Baratheon spent years trying to kill me, a child. Had he known that you existed, you might have suffered the same fate.” She stood, hands folded and walked toward him. “I’ve spent my life in foreign lands, so many men have tried to kill me, I don’t remember all their names. I have been sold, chained, betrayed, raped, and defiled. And do you know what kept me standing all those years of horror?” He looked up at her as she walked toward him, a look of wonder on his face. “Faith. Not in gods or myths and legends, but in myself, in Daenerys Targaryen. The world hadn’t seen a dragon in centuries until my children were born. The Dothraki hadn’t crossed the sea. They did for me. I wasn’t born to rule the Seven Kingdoms, but I will.” 

She was standing directly in front of him now. Both of their chests moving as they harshly breathed in and out. Matching flames were alight in their eyes. He was even more beautiful up close. The look of wonder on his face disappeared as his jaw went firm. All of her guards stood alertly and close to them both. He still had his sword, all he had to do was draw it on her. His direwolf was right behind him, eyeing her curiously. His red eyes were eerie, one quick swipe of his paws and she’d be gone. But both of those threats didn’t seem true with him.

“You’ll be ruling over a graveyard if we don’t defeat the Night King.” Jon said simply. Dany’s frustration was nearing its limits. This man refused to push her claim on the Seven Kingdoms, hadn’t once actually admitted that he claimed he was the true heir, and refused to pledge for her cause. All he seemed to want to talk about was a mystical enemy. This was not how she expected this conversation to go.

“The war against Cersei has already begun.” Tyrion stepped closer as he spoke. “You can’t expect us to halt hostilities, all of our armies are in place.”

“You don’t believe him.” Davos entered the conversation, moving to Jon’s side. “I understand that. It sounds like nonsense. But if destiny has brought Daenerys back to our shores, it has also made Jon Snow king. You were the first to bring Dothraki to Westeros, he was the first to make allies of wildlings and Northmen. He was named Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch, he was named King in the North, not because of his birthright. No one knew of his birthright, they thought him a damn bastard. All those hard sons of bitches chose him as their leader because they believe in him. All those things you don’t believe in, he faced those things. He fought those things for the good of his people, he risked his life for his people, he took a knife in the heart for his people, he gave his own l…” Jon looked sharply at Davos then. It was the first time he had broken eye contact with her during the entire speech. The fire was still there, lighting him from within, but his eyes were also pleading, begging her to believe him. She nearly didn’t catch the last sentence. When he turned to Davos, she exchanged a look with Tyrion. “If we don’t put aside our enmities,” Davos continued, “then it won’t matter who’s skeleton sits on the Iron Throne.”

“If it doesn’t matter, then you might as well kneel and swear allegiance to Daenerys and together we will face this threat.” Tyrion said.

“And why would I do that?” He growled, the fire finally exploding. “I mean no offense, Your Grace, but I don’t know you. As far as I can tell your claim to the throne rests entirely on your father’s name. My own father fought to overthrow the Mad King, and I might have a higher claim to it through House Targaryen than you do! The Lords in the North put their trust in me to lead them, and I will continue to do so as well as I can. They don’t trust you, and I don’t know if I should either.”

Daenerys was fuming. The man before her was impossible! “What do you want Jon Snow? Why are you really here?”

Jon sighed. “I need fire, dragonglass, and men for the Great War. You have all of that. Your dragons, this island, and your armies. You don’t believe me, but I have to prepare, I have five, six months at most before they hit the Wall and I need to be ready.”

“You’re a military man. Help me win the Iron Throne, lead my armies in battle and stand with me instead of opposed to me, and I’ll give you all three.” Daenerys fired back. Tyrion gasped looking at her wide eyed. “Final offer, Jon Snow.”

Jon looked at Davos, then back at Robb. “We need to speak about it. Privately.” He answered.

Daenerys stared at him for a long moment then signaled Qhono. “Take these men to the rooms on the east side. They are to be guarded at all times.” She said quickly in Dothraki.

“Very well Jon Snow, Qhono and his men will get you settled.” She said her gaze harsh. “I expect an answer by tomorrow night. You and I will meet alone for the evening meal tomorrow and discuss terms.”

The Dothraki circled the three men, the direwolf snarled, not liking to be corralled. “Are we your prisoners?” Jon asked her.

“Not yet.” She smirked back.

The men left the hall, and the Dornish and Greyjoys left out the side. Daenerys was left with Tyrion and Missandei.

“Well, that was interesting.” Tyrion said. “You aren’t going to kill him, tomorrow, are you?”

“He might be infuriating, but no, I won’t kill him.” Dany said back.

“That’s not what I meant.” Tyrion raised his eyebrows at her. “There were several times that I thought we’d have to clear the hall so the two of you could have your way with each other.”

Dany shrugged. She wasn’t going to deny it. The most frustrating part about Jon Snow was just how much he’d managed to arouse her.


	9. Jon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon, Arya and Robb regroup after the first meeting with Daenerys. They speak with Arianne and Theon in the castle. Jon and Daenerys have their first private meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise!! 
> 
> So, I ended up way far ahead in my writing schedule and as a result, I am going to be posting twice a week! You can expect chapters on our normal day, Wednesday, and now on Sunday!
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy where Jon and Dany are headed after this chapter, things start to clear up as they get some one on one time.
> 
> Happy New Year!! 🥂

Jon paced back and forth in the chambers; brow furrowed in concentration. He had flung his cloak off the minute he had entered; his blood was pumping too hot for him to be covered in so many layers. Longclaw was still on his hip as he wasn’t quite sure what to expect from the Dothraki who had escorted them to the Eastern part of the castle. He was gritting his teeth, trying to get his emotions under control. He couldn’t decide what was worse, the frustration or the arousal. Daenerys Targaryen was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. True silver hair and violet eyes had met him with fire in the throne room. She was even more beautiful now than she had been in his dreams. Every moment in the throne room with her had been an exercise in patience. They had butted heads from the second they started speaking. She wanted the throne, that was her primary goal. That was fine with him, he could care fuck all about the throne. He wanted her resources to fight the Night King, and she looked at him like he was a child when he explained himself. He was still unsure if she was really going to hold up her end of whatever deal they made tomorrow.

His head was aching, the growling presence inside him had woken with a vengeance in the face of another dragon. Jon had rarely shown his anger, or any emotion really, when dealing with other rulers, it wasn’t his way. But the moment she started questioning him, questioning his family, his inner dragon had roared to life. There were certain times in the throne room where he was sure flames were going to leap between them. No one had brought out that side of him so quickly before. He was also frustrated because he wanted, just once, for someone to believe him about the Others, to not question him immediately. For fucks sake, she had dragons, did she not think that there was other magic in the world too? He could tell his mood was starting to affect everyone. Ghost was practically snarling in the corner, and both Davos and Robb were watching him warily as he paced around the room. He took a deep breath, trying to get the anger under control. He spun quickly toward his advisor and his brother.

“Where the fuck is she?” Jon asked them harshly.

“She’s probably with the men they separated us from. That was our intention, to keep her hidden.” Davos said.

Just then, there was a knock on the door. Jon went to it and shoved it open. Standing opposite him was a thin young man dressed in Northern armor, nervously glancing at the Dothraki lining the halls. “Your Grace, I’ve been sent from the men to give you a report of our time so far on Dragonstone.” He said shakily. Clearly the young man was intimidated by the amount of large fighting men in the hallway.

Jon looked up at one of the Dothraki. “She said we were not prisoners.” He said sharply.

“Khaleesi say you stay here. We keep you here.” One of the Dothraki responded in broken Common Tongue.

Jon rolled his eyes as he moved back to allow the soldier entry. He slammed the door behind the thin Northman. All three men watched fascinated as the man reached down to the bottom of his face and slowly pulled it off, revealing the young woman underneath. Arya raised her eyebrows at their shocked faces. “You watched me put it on.” She said.

Robb still looked disturbed, “Yeah, I didn’t like that either.”

Arya just rolled her eyes at him. After the Battle of Winterfell, Arya had collected more than a few faces to use around Westeros. The current one was a fallen Karstark soldier. When their ship left White Harbor with them and the small group of Northern soldiers, they had decided it would be best if Arya kept to the background. To Jon and Robb, that had meant her staying with the soldiers at all times, protected as their sister. To Arya and Davos though, it meant her fitting in with the men unnoticed. The original plan had actually been for her to be in the hall during the exchange between Jon and Daenerys, but that changed at the beach. They had been met by a group of Unsullied who demanded that they turn over their weapons and follow them. Jon had refused. Giving over his weapons to an ally would have been one thing, giving them to a potential enemy was entirely different. There had been a long negotiation on the beach between them before it had been decided that Jon, Robb, and Davos could keep their weapons, but the men stayed behind. The Unsullied had tried to say something about Ghost as well, but the direwolf hadn’t given them much of a choice, shouldering past the guards.

“This place is amazing.” Arya said, wonder in her voice. “You weren’t kidding Davos.”

Davos had given all of them a quick rundown of the castle on their way, as he had spent a significant amount of time here with Stannis. His descriptions were accurate, but Jon thought nothing could really prepare you to see the Targaryen stronghold with your own eyes.

“It’s interesting to see it now, with Daenerys here.” Davos replied. “Stannis kept everything so cold, but the keep seems to have come alive under the stewardship of its intended family.”

Jon turned to Arya, “What happened with you? Where did they take you?”

“They brought us up to the castle after you were already inside.” Arya shrugged. “They settled us all in rooms a floor down from you, right below us, and instructed us to wait. The Unsullied are guarding the halls down there. I saw the Greyjoys briefly. Theon is here.”

Tension filled the room at that. Of course, they had seen Theon in the throne room, but then Jon had been distracted with Daenerys. Robb took a deep breath and sat up in his seat. His blue eyes alight. Robb had cleaned up on their way to Dragonstone, he had bathed and even cut his hair. He had stopped constantly drinking and his skin and eyes were finally clear. It was a relief to Jon to see some of his brother start to finally come back. “I want time with him.” Robb practically growled.

“He saved Sansa. She said without him, she never would have survived Ramsay.” Jon said warningly.

“That doesn’t change the fact that he betrayed me, left me without allies, burned our home, killed Ser Rodrick, and faked the deaths of our brothers by killing innocent boys.” Robb said, nearly yelling.

“I know that.” Jon said. “I’m so aware of what he did, I just mean, if he’s allied with Daenerys, we’re going to have to tread lightly.”

“Hit him where it doesn’t show.” Davos suggested, shrugging his shoulders.

“Something tells me nothing happens on this island without Daenerys Targaryen knowing about it.” Arya said. “Where are her dragons? I thought we’d get to see them.”

“That’s a good question.” Robb said. “They’re her main source of power, I would think she’d have them on display.”

At the thought of dragons, a large warm mind pressed against Jon’s. At first, he thought it was Ghost, it was a similar feeling, but Ghost was relaxed, laying by the fire. The mind was obviously not his own, and not the part of his personality that was his inner dragon. The pressure increased as he worked out the sensation. Jon gasped. “They’re definitely here, I think I can feel them.”

All three of his companions turned to look at him. Davos with skepticism, Robb with concern, and Arya with elation. “It feels similar to what I feel with Ghost, but fainter, as if there’s no connection yet.” Just like that, the presence in his mind withdrew. “Maybe I’m going mad, or just affected by all of this,” he said, gesturing around the room. “Whatever it was, it’s gone now.”

Arya was still looking at him in wonder. “Do you think you could bond with a dragon?” She asked.

Jon huffed. “Not if Daenerys Targaryen has anything to say about it.” He responded.

“Tell me about her, what happened?” Arya asked, sitting down at the table with Davos and Robb.

Jon sighed and moved to sit with them. Robb, Davos, and Jon took turns explaining the first meeting with the Dragon Queen. “So basically, she’ll help us, if we help her win the throne.” Jon said in conclusion.

“Sounds reasonable enough,” Arya replied. “The question will just be if you can get her on the throne in time to make it back up north for the Great War.”

“It’s not reasonable enough,” Robb started, sounding affronted. “Jon is the true heir to the Iron Throne, why should we have to give her anything?”

Arya rolled her eyes at her eldest brother. “Did you really think that a woman who has fought tooth and nail to gain armies and allies in order to reclaim her family’s throne was going to just roll over to appease your demands? You have no proof of Jon’s legitimacy, and he doesn’t even really want the throne.”

Robb looked to Jon at that. “I’ve told you, Robb. Multiple times, that I don’t give a fuck about the Iron Throne. I care about saving us all in the Great War, the war with the Others. That is my job.” Jon repeated the same points he had been for over a month now.

“Yes, okay, but I just assumed it would be easier to accomplish that goal if you were King.” Robb responded. “We need to talk over this proposed plan and have an idea of what we can offer before you go treat with her privately tomorrow night.”

“What?” Arya asked quickly, turning towards Jon. “A private meeting?”

“Yes, Queen Daenerys invited your brother to a private dinner where they are going to hash out the details of this alliance.” Davos responded with raised eyebrows.

“Why did you say it like that?” Jon asked.

Arya turned to look at him, eyes moving from his head to his toes. “Wear less layers, leave the sword here, and let your hair out.”

Jon was confused and looked back and forth between the two of them. Robb just looked at him amused. “What are you going on about? We’re just going to be talking about how best to win her the Iron Throne and save the North.” Jon said.

“Jon, a queen does not treat with an ally privately over food and wine. I figured by the way you were looking at each other that you understood that.” Davos replied.

“How were we looking at each other? I was furious at her, and she was with me.” Jon said, confused.

Arya snorted her laughter, and Davos shook his head. Even Robb smiled at him like he was an idiot. “You looked at each other like you were about to tear each other’s clothes off and go at it on the throne room floor.” Robb said laughing. “Everyone felt the tension. Arianne Martell looked particularly interested at the development.” Robb said with a smirk at the end.

“There will be no tearing of clothes or bedding going on tomorrow night.” Jon said determinedly. “We have too much at stake for me to fuck this up.”

That sobered them all and they began to discuss different scenarios. Jon was only half listening, he knew he had felt an intense arousal with Daenerys, but he assumed it was one sided. He had never had to deal with this before in a leadership capacity. He wanted her. He wanted her with a hunger he barely recognized. He had wanted her for years as she appeared in his dreams, but he was telling the truth when he said there was too much at stake. He just hoped they had a solution before giving in to whatever heat was brewing between them.

***

Jon woke the next morning in a sweat, another vivid dream had taken him. He woke up with the memory of her silver hair and purple eyes, their fire brightly shining at him. If anything, seeing her now in person was intensifying the feelings he had during the nighttime visions. He washed up quickly, running a cool wet linen under his arms and over his face. He dresses forgoing his cloak, but still strapped Longclaw onto his hip. There was no way he’d be walking around Dragonstone unarmed, not with the Dothraki and Unsullied lining the walls. Without warning, the door opened, Robb walking in followed closely by a disguised Arya. For now, she would stay anonymous in order to gain any extra information they could use. If there was one thing, he had learned the last few months with Sansa, it was that the smallfolk were much more open with each other than the nobility they served.

“Davos went looking this morning, and there’s a spread set out in the smaller hall in order to break our fast.” Robb said. “It’s helpful having him here, seeing as he knows the keep.”

“He’s helpful for more than that, Robb.” Jon replied. He hadn’t missed the cool relationship between the two men. Davos had made it very clear that he didn’t appreciate Robb’s impulsive behavior and lack of foresight. Davos was a man that had served a very reserved and disciplined king in Stannis, and Jon assumed he felt comfortable with Jon because he was also typically well reserved. Robb wore everything on his sleeve, his wolf’s blood ran hot nearly all the time. As a boy it had resulted in an impetuous, mischievous child, but it was not the mark of a steady leader. It was difficult for Jon to reconcile the man his brother is to the boy he knew. For most of his life, he had walked in Robb’s shadow, but now it seemed even Robb was pushing him into the light, and it was a jarring transition. He never thought he would be the one giving the orders to be followed, but Robb seemed relieved when Jon took charge of situations. Perhaps it was his failed command that had humbled him to this point. Jon knew that if he didn’t start bridging the gap between his advisor and his brother, he would be in for a painful separation from one of them. “Davos was the one person who fought for me at Castle Black. My body would be ashes now if he hadn’t asked Melisandre for help. He despises that woman, he had to swallow any pride he had to ask her for help. He also has a way of looking at the world that neither of us does. We need him, he’s calm, steady, and he’s moral. I need you to try with him, Robb. I’m serious about this.”

Robb looked at him as if deep in thought for a moment. “Okay, I hear you. I’ll try. I just always assumed if we ended back up together, it would be you and me against the world, brothers to the end and all that.”

“Robb it is. It always will be. Even though technically I’m your cousin, you’ll still always be my brother. I rely on you, and I need you to snap out of it. I need the commander now, not a jealous kid.” Jon said harshly.

Robb nodded. Arya as the Karstark soldier just snorted. “Everyone okay now? Egos firmly in place? Do we need to whip it out and measure?”

Robb and Jon both looked at her with disgust. “Shut up, Arya.” They said at the same time.

The door opened again; this time Davos was in the doorway. “What’s takin’ you three so long? Your men are hungry and so am I!”

They exited Jon’s room and saw their small group of Northmen. They had brought twenty with them, all they could spare really, the crew on the ship had all been loaned out by Lord Manderly in White Harbor and were currently docked and in the local village on Dragonstone. The men all nodded to Robb but bowed their heads and acknowledged “Your Grace.” When he appeared.

“Well, that’s going to take some getting used to.” He whispered to Davos.

“You’d better,” he responded. “You’re here to negotiate with a queen and have already been named a king by not just one, but several kingdoms. You have to show some sort of decorum.”

The group all trudged along in the corridor, the Northmen peeking at the Dothraki as they passed them. All of his men had been disarmed, and he was sure they felt uncomfortable without their weapons. They entered a different hall than the throne room, Jon wasn’t sure how they’d got there. The halls in Dragonstone were curved, unlike in Winterfell. Nearly every possible surface of the castle had some reference to dragons, whether it was the etchings on the walls, the door handles, the staircase, or the floors themselves that resembled scales. The hall was slightly smaller than the great hall at Winterfell, but on one side of the room, a fireplace ran the entire length of the wall. He was fascinated to see that even the top part of the fireplace resembled dragon teeth. Before them sat long tables already filled with food. The smallfolk moved in and out of the room, replacing dishes from the kitchens and bringing more drinks. The Dornishmen that they had seen in the hall the day before sat at one of the long tables. They were an interesting sight all dressed in their gold in the dark hall.

As their group entered, the conversation at the Dornish table ceased and they all turned and stared at the Northmen. Jon ignored them, while several of his men postured to them. It would be a miracle if they left this island without at least one fist fight. Jon sat down in the middle of the table with his men surrounding him. Davos leaned in quickly, “You’re a king, remember? Head of the table.”

He turned to look at his advisor, “that’s not the type of king I am. I’m sitting here with my men, and if anyone takes offense they can come and tell me themselves.” He didn’t miss the look passed amongst his men. Jon had always sat with his men, as a bastard, as a brother of the Night’s Watch, even as their Lord Commander. There wasn’t any difference between him and his men when they all fought on the same battlefield. Davos relented and sat down next to Jon. The food was excellent, even if it was much different than he was used to. Food in the North was hearty and rich. It had to be to fill the bellies and keep out the cold. The food here was much lighter, the bread softer, and there was fresh fish available, a luxury Jon had never really experienced. It wasn’t too long before the entire group from the North were happily eating and speaking of the day’s events and their surroundings. Jon and Robb were in a deep discussion when all of the sudden, all of the Dornishmen rose. In walked a woman dressed in similar Dornish colors. Her hair was dark and fell in waves around her face. Her skin was clear and a deep olive tone, and her eyes were large and dark. She was beautiful and had the full curves of a woman. This was Arianne Martell, the current princess of Dorne. She nodded to her men who all sat after she acknowledged them. Jon caught many of the Northmen staring at her hungrily, but the one who concerned him the most was Robb. Arya, still disguised, was sitting next to their brother and gave him a shove. Arianne made her way to the Northerners table.

“Hello Lord Stark, Lord Snow. It is a pleasure to see such brutish beauty so early in the morning.” Arianne practically purred at them. She was looking between Robb and Jon as if she couldn’t decide which one she favored more.

Davos cleared his throat. “Princess Arianne Martell, I presume.”

“Your presumptions prove true, Ser Davos.” Arianne responded silkily. “How are you enjoying your time on Dragonstone, my lords?” Davos couldn’t hold her attention and she turned back to the two younger men. “If you find you are bored, I could help with that.”

Her obvious proposition turned Jon away immediately. Not that he was interested in the first place, someone else definitely held his attention. Robb, however, was much more susceptible to the Dornish princess. “And just how could you help with that, Princess?” Robb asked her.

Arya looked like she was going to throw up. “We find many ways to entertain ourselves in Dorne, my lord. Often all that is needed is a soft space. It doesn’t even really have to be private.” Arianne answered him.

Just when Jon was going to say something to him, the next group arrived to break their fast. Robb didn’t need anyone’s help sobering up from Arianne’s presence when he saw who had just arrived. The Greyjoys were led in by Theon, and they made a wide berth of their table, settling on the other side of the Dornish. “Excuse me, Princess, but I’ll have to take up the offer another time.” Robb said, his eyes steely as he looked across the room.

Arianne was obviously curious about the byplay, but also visibly offended at the dismissal. She looked to Jon, maybe to start something but he simply shook his head. She smiled, “I’ve heard you were a member of the Night’s Watch, my lord. Tell me, do you fear my presence because you have no experience or because you do not find women attractive? I would be more than happy to tutor you if you require, or I have several men who I’m sure would love to spend time with a man as handsome as you.” Jon paled. She was the most forward woman he had ever met.

“I don’t need tutoring, Princess, I’ve had no complaints, but now is not the time.” Jon responded diplomatically. He could tell immediately that he’d made a mistake with her. Her eyes had lit up and a smirk took up residence on her face.

“Another time then, Lord Snow.” Arianne purred. She moved to speak again to Robb, but he had yet to take his eyes from the Greyjoys across the hall. Arianne finally nodded and moved to sit with her men.

Theon was peeking over his shoulder occasionally at the Stark table. Every time his eyes met Robb’s, he startled and turned back around while Robb growled. All of the sudden there was a commotion with the smallfolk in the kitchens, shouts echoed out into the main room. Ghost came sauntering into the hall. Jon had let him out the night before to hunt and find his food. Judging by the faint staining of blood around his mouth, the wolf had succeeded. He came up and sat at Jon’s back.

The rest of the meal was an awkward affair. Between Arianne sending heated looks their way and Theon twitching over at his table, Jon and Robb kept their talking to a minimum and just focused on getting through the meal. The Greyjoys finished first and made their way out of the hall. Jon wouldn’t have chosen that particular time to confront Theon, but Robb left him no choice as he followed Theon out into the castle.

“Theon!” Robb yelled across the room. Theon turned at his name and stood with his head bowed, his posture terrified. The Iron Born behind him kept a distance between them and their liege lord, while the Northmen took a similar stance behind the Stark brothers.

“Robb, Jon.” Theon nodded at them. He turned to look at Jon and slowly walked toward him. Maybe he sensed that Jon was the calmer of the two. “Sansa, is she…?”

As soon as he got close enough, Jon grabbed him by the chest and pulled him in. “What you did for her is the only reason I won’t let him kill you.” Jon said, nodding his head at a fuming Robb.

Theon turned to Robb, careful not to get too close to him. “Robb, I don’t know what to say other than I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry. What exactly are you sorry for Theon?” Robb asked. “For betraying me by leaving me without allies? For returning to my home, where you were raised and killing Ser Rodrick? For forcing Bran and Rickon out and killing two innocent boys in their stead? Tell me, if you had caught them, would you have killed them? They were as much your brothers as they were mine.” Robb was scathing in his assessment of Theon.

Theon scoffed slightly. “Robb, you don’t understand anything. You assumed we were all supposed to blindly follow you because you were Ned Stark’s firstborn son. You didn’t know what it was like for me, growing up in the home of a man who was holding me hostage. You didn’t even know what it was like for Jon growing up as your bastard brother, never good enough for even your scraps.” Theon’s voice was growing in volume and strength. Robb stepped into him then and delivered one solid punch to Theon’s face. Blood immediately sprayed from Theon’s nose, but despite the injury, he continued. “I did terrible things in the name of my father, but I always wanted to do the right thing. I wanted to be the right kind of person, but I never knew what that meant.”

Robb had reached his limit. “You were raised beside me, beside Jon. You had a choice just as much as the rest of us, and you chose to turn your back on everything. I can’t kill you here because you’re Daenerys’s ally and I will let you live for the service you provided Sansa, but don’t ever give me a reason to kill you, because I will take it.” With that Robb turned and walked off, several of the men following him, shooting disgusted looks at Theon.

Jon just stood and watched the young Greyjoy man. Theon turned to him. “You’ve always made the right choices Jon. You were always the best of us, and maybe that’s why I was such an ass to you. You could have refused to come here, knowing that Daenerys might have your head for claiming to be a Targaryen and still you came. You were never treated right, but you at least knew who you were. I never knew what I was, Stark or Greyjoy.”

Jon took several aggressive steps towards him. “Our family was more of a family to you than yours ever was.”

“They were.” Theon agreed immediately, and bowed his head.

“And you betrayed us, betrayed father’s memory, betrayed Bran and Rickon, betrayed Robb.” Jon continued.

“I did.” Theon agreed again.

Jon took a deep breath and took a quick look around. The Iron Born still stood behind Theon, and most of the Northmen had Jon’s back. Arya stood off to the side, still disguised as a Karstark man. “Sansa told me that you paid for it. In more ways than we’ll ever know. Father wouldn’t have wanted this. He’s still with you, his lessons are still there. He’s a part of you, just like he’s a part of me.”

“But the things I’ve done…” Theon looked at Jon pleadingly as if he would be his salvation.

“It’s not my place to forgive you for all of it, but what I can forgive, I do.” Jon had his own demons, his own reasons to feel guilt similar to what Theon felt. He had grown, maybe beyond what Robb was capable of, so he felt he needed to give Theon some absolution he would never get from his brother. In a way, Theon was right about their childhoods and he and Theon would understand each other much better than Robb ever could. “You never needed to choose. You can be the best of us too. You’re a Greyjoy, and you can still be a Stark. Just not a Stark that will ever be welcome at Winterfell.” Jon sighed, frustrated by the whole mess. He was sure if they’d be anywhere but on Dragonstone, Theon would already be a corpse. He looked at the broken man and hardened his face. “And stay away from Robb, just let this rest.”

Jon turned away from Theon and was met with wide purple eyes. Daenerys stood there with her retinue and met his eyes. He wasn’t sure how much she had caught of their conversation, but she looked at him curiously. He nodded to her and then followed after his brother.

***

Jon took a deep breath as he stood outside of the door he was escorted to by the Dothraki. He was dressed in just a tunic covered by his quilted gambeson. He had left his breastplate, jerkin, and Longclaw back in his chambers. Upon the advice of Davos, Robb, and Arya he had left his hair loose, the curls going in every direction. His hands were shaking as he smoothed down his clothes. The door opened and Daenerys’s handmaiden stood there with a soft smile on her face.

“Good evening, Lord Snow.” She said cheekily. If Davos was with him, he would have corrected the woman with her use of titles, but he didn’t feel like insisting right now.

“Good evening.” Jon said smiling back. “I don’t believe I caught your name.”

“I am called Missandei, I am Her Grace’s handmaid and translator.” She said. Jon smiled; he could see the kindness on the woman’s face.

“It’s nice to meet you, Missandei. Will you be joining us tonight?” He asked politely.

She giggled at him. “No, I think I’ll leave you to fend for yourself. The meal is already set here in Her Grace’s solar. The Unsullied and Dothraki will maintain their positions in the hallway. Have a good evening.” She moved passed him into the hallway and he was left alone in the empty room.

Daenerys’s solar was a massive room with a balcony that overlooked the mainland. The table was already set with the evening fare and there was a fire roaring in the hearth. The room was stark, nearly no personal touches. It made Jon slightly sad as he thought about the fact that she had only recently retaken her home. She had nothing personal for it, and all of the Targaryen treasures that once belonged in these rooms were probably long gone. He was sad for her, and also for himself. There was no evidence besides the walls themselves that their family had resided here for centuries.

He turned at the sound of a door opening, probably the door to her personal chambers. He turned to address her, but whatever he was planning on saying was lost forever in the recesses of his brain. Daenerys was a vision in red, the velvet gown was a deeper crimson color, almost blood red. The sleeves covered her arms but started below her shoulders. Her chest was nearly on full display, the tops of her breasts sitting above a line of golden embroidery. A gold belt circled her tiny waist. Her hair was still wrapped in braids but much of it fell softly down her back in curls. She was breathtaking in the colors of her house.

He finally picked his jaw up off the floor and addressed her. “Your Grace, you look beautiful.”

She smiled at him, “Thank you, Lord Snow. I would return the favor but if I’m being honest, I don’t believe brown is your color.”

He met her eyes as he responded. “No, my color has always been black.” She visibly shivered in front of him and broke the eye contact. “And please, call me Jon.”

“Well, I’m certainly not going to address you as ‘Your Grace’, so I suppose I can call you by your given name.” Daenerys replied, chuckling.

“According to my sources my given name was actually Jaehaerys.” He shot back, not giving her an inch.

She raised her eyebrows at his determination. “Do you use it?” She asked.

He smiled. “No, it’s a bit of a mouthful. I like Jon, it’s simple, and can be screamed easily.”

She blushed furiously. “Is that something that happens to you often, people screaming your name.”

He shrugged and decided to steer the conversation somewhere less dangerous. “You’d be surprised actually. I’ve been told I’m rather hardheaded.”

She laughed at that. “Please sit.” Daenerys said, gesturing to the table.

He stepped over and pulled out her chair. “You first. I wasn’t raised to sit before a lady.”

“A queen.” She corrected shortly.

He chuckled, “Fair enough.”

Once they were both seated, he looked at the food in front of him. More of the same from this morning, light food, with tender meat and root vegetables. His interest must have shown on his face, because Daenerys asked, “Is this much different than the food in the North?”

“The North is a harsh place, the true north even more so. Meat is hard to come by and when you do it is gamey and tough. Most of our fare is stews and ale, things to keep us warm at night.” Jon responded.

“I can’t imagine a place much colder than Dragonstone, honestly. I’ve lived my whole life in the deserts and tropics of Essos.” Daenerys said pleasantly.

“What are we doing here, Your Grace?” He asked curiously. “You said you wanted to treat with me, discuss our future strategies and here we are speaking about the weather?”

Daenerys looked at him for a long moment. “Maybe I wanted to get the measure of you, Jon Snow. You are after all, asking for a lot.”

“I’m asking for things that will save us all.” Jon pointed out.

“I was warned that you would have strange things to tell me.” She said.

Jon was confused. “Warned by whom?” he asked.

“Melisandre of Asshai, a red priestess.” Daenerys answered.

Jon was shocked, Melisandre had left the North more than a month before as an outcast from his kingdom but went to Daenerys to tell her about him? “And what did Melisandre have to say?”

“She was speaking about a prophecy, of the Prince that was Promised. Do you know it?” She asked back, obviously gaging his reaction.

He sighed. “I’m aware that Melisandre believes that I am that prophesied Prince, but she also thought it was Stannis before me. I’m surprised she came here, Your Grace. I outlawed her from the North about a month ago and sent her on her way.”

“Why?” Daenerys asked in between bites of food.

“Do you have much experience with the servants of R’hollor?” He asked. She surprisingly nodded slowly. “They’re considered fanatics here in Westeros, a rare group of religious zealots. Melisandre believed there was power in King’s blood. She would perform blood magic to accomplish her goals. She and Stannis supposedly murdered Renly Baratheon with a shadow demon she conjured, and they would burn people at the stake, alive. They tried to do it to the King Beyond the Wall. A wildling man that I respected very much. I shot him with an arrow to prevent the slow death they had planned for him.” She looked at him curiously, enthralled by his story. “But that wasn’t the worst of it. We found out later that she and Stannis in order to gain favor with the Lord of Light, they burned Stannis’s young daughter alive on the eve of battle.”

Daenerys’s eyes widened in horror. “A child?” She asked, her hand moving to her throat defensively. He nodded at her. He could see that she was debating whether or not to continue when she finally said, “I hate what people do to children, they’re innocent. When I was liberating Slaver’s Bay and was on my way to Meereen the masters in the city tried to deter me. They crucified children every mile on our way in, by the end they had killed 163. When I made it to Meereen and took the city, I crucified 163 masters in return.” She stopped there looking at him with fire blazing in her eyes, daring him to contradict her punishment.

“Did you make sure those masters were the ones responsible?” Jon asked her.

She was obviously taken aback. “All masters are guilty of slavery.”

“That’s true, and it’s an evil practice that should never have been instituted. But if you’re punishing men for the crime, then they should be the men who committed the crime.” He said calmly.

“You think I was in the wrong with my punishment?” Daenerys asked.

Jon shrugged then shook his head. “I’m not judging you, it’s a fit punishment, but I question when a punishment is given that the person at least fit the crime.”

“Have you ever killed anyone who didn’t deserve it?” She asked.

“Yes.” He responded. “Quite a few actually, but I like to think that I learn every time it happens.”

“You are honest, aren’t you?” She asked him seriously.

“I keep my word, or at least I try to.” Jon responded.

“Do you truly believe that you’re a Targaryen?” She asked quickly.

“Do you?” He shot back.

She sat back in her seat and regarded him for a long moment. “Yes, I do.”

“I had no idea until Robb returned to the North, with a crazy story from one of our bannermen.” Jon said. “I honestly never would have claimed it, if he hadn’t stood up in front of the entire kingdom and told them.”

“Never. You never would have claimed to be the heir to the Iron Throne?” She asked skeptically.

“No. I have no desire to sit on the throne, any throne really.” He chuckled softly. “Really all I ever wanted was to belong somewhere, be claimed by someone or something. The true wish of any bastard. I suppose that’s why I joined the Watch.”

“Speaking of,” Daenerys started, “I thought the vows of the Night’s Watch were for life.”

“They are, Your Grace.” He responded.

“Daenerys, call me Daenerys.” She said back to him. “If those vows are for life, then how is it you sit here with me, alive and well and yet claim to be an honorable man?”

“I’m afraid I’ll need to trust you a bit more before I give you that story, Daenerys.” He let her name roll off his tongue and watched as she shivered. “But I finished my watch, with honor.”

She let it drop, for now. “Tell me about this Great War, Jon Snow. The one that you need my dragons and dragonglass and armies for.”

Jon leaned back in his seat. They were both done eating by now and nursing cups of wine. “It’s an army of dead men. Raised by the Night King and the White Walkers. The last time I saw them was Hard Home, it’s the eastern port for the Free Folk. The last of them had been corralled there by his forces. He came in a storm; his armies overran the people as we were loading them into boats to go south. I fought one White Walker and killed him, but the sheer numbers of their forces were overwhelming. They don’t slow down, they don’t tire, and they don’t get distracted from their purpose.”

“Which is?” She pressed.

“To destroy, everything.” He responded. “I honestly don’t know what drives the Night King other than that. But I watched from a boat as he raised all those killed in battle to join his army. Their eyes glow blue when they turn. I will forever have nightmares of glowing blue eyes.”

“Can they get past the wall?” Daenerys asked.

“I don’t know how, but I know they will.” Jon said. “He’s determined that they do, and so they will.”

“Why now?” She asked. “They’ve presumably been there for thousands of years, why become active now?”

“I’ve been asking myself that for years.” Jon confessed. “You said you would help us if we helped you.”

“Yes.” She said, putting down her cup. “And I meant it.”

“I assume that means backing you for the Iron Throne and helping you take King’s Landing.” Jon said. She nodded in return.

“I don’t have any men to give you.” She looked up shocked. “Between the War of the Five Kings and the battle to retake Winterfell, there’s hardly anyone left in the North that can fight. Those that are able, are training the young ones and preparing for war. The best I give you is myself. I’m a proven battle commander and I know the Westerosi. The Riverlands might be able to come to your aid, but the Vale and the North, there’s no time for them to come south.”

“That’s not a very even trade, Jon Snow.” She told him harshly.

“I know, but I can promise that all three kingdoms will follow House Targaryen when the war is done.” Jon responded.

Daenerys studied him for a long moment and he resisted the urge to squirm. He didn’t know that he’d find power so attractive in a woman, but her commanding presence had lit something deep inside him. “Fine.” She responded. “You will stay here and help me capture King’s Landing. That means any battles that I need you in. Your men can start mining dragonglass in the Northern caves. But be careful not to go too far in, or you might get burned.” She smirked.

“Your dragons?” He asked.

“My children. My three sons who will help me take back what was stolen from my family. Our family.” She said decisively. “Perhaps one day you can meet them, but only if you introduce me to the giant ball of white fur that follows you around.”

“Ghost, my direwolf.” Jon supplied. “We all had them, all of us siblings, but now I believe he’s the only one left.”

“Tell me, Jon, do you play cyvasse?” Daenerys asked suddenly, the mood lightening.

“I’ve only seen it played once or twice. It’s not a favorite in the North.” Jon answered.

“Tyrion’s been teaching me to play and I thought I’d get the measure of your battle strategy by playing with you.” Daenerys said lightly. “Basically, the only rule you really need to know is that you want the dragon.” Heat filled her eyes as they stared at one another.

The next few hours passed pleasantly as they played the popular game. She kept shooting him looks over the board and meeting his eyes for long periods of time. By the end, she had beaten him soundly. He finally was frustrated enough to stop. “Enough!” He called after her second loss. “I need fresh air.”

She smirked at him. “Not used to losing?”

He smiled back. “You’d be surprised, I’m actually quite adept at losing. I just don’t like losing to you.”

Daenerys looked mischievous. “You’d better get used to it, Jon.”

They made their way out onto the balcony, wine in hand and stared out at the sea. “Why do you accept that I’m a Targaryen?” Jon asked her curiously. It had been troubling him since she answered so surely hours before.

She turned to look at him. Gods she was gorgeous. Her face was flushed from the wine and her eyes sparkled in the moonlight. “Because I’ve been dreaming of you.” She answered.

He met her eyes, those purple eyes that had been haunting him as well. She was perfect in the moonlight and was everything he ever could have dreamed. They stood for long moments looking at each other. The tension was finally too much, and Jon broke. 

Wrapping an arm around her waist, he pulled her to him while he set down his wine. He grabbed her chin with his other hand and tipped her face back. Before he could overthink his actions, Jon slanted his mouth onto hers. Fire erupted between them. She gasped into his mouth and he took advantage, pushing his tongue between her teeth and rubbing along hers. She moaned and moved her hands to his hair, pulling him even closer. They kissed for what seemed like an eternity, and Jon’s only thought was that now he was well and truly screwed, she was too perfect to give up.


	10. Daenerys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dany and Jon spend some more time together exploring the island of Dragonstone. Old friends and allies continue to arrive. Truths are revealed and compromises are drawn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Wednesday! The story rolls on!!
> 
> :) See you Sunday. Thanks for your kudos and comments!

It had been a long time since Dany had woken up excited for the day ahead, but after the previous evening, she practically leapt out of bed. Her excited energy did not go unnoticed by Missandei who had entered a few minutes before to help prepare her for the day ahead.

“I take it things with Lord Snow went well last night, Your Grace?” Missandei asked cheerfully.

Dany blushed as she thought back to the previous evening. The tension between the two had begun almost from the moment Jon entered her solar. Nearly every exchange seemed to be sexual in one way or another, their inner fires blazing for the other. They made it through the meal, and several games of cyvasse before they finally relented. The moment Jon kissed her on the balcony she knew she was never meant to kiss anyone else. He had grabbed her with such determination and didn’t hesitate as their lips and tongues met. She didn’t know how long they stood out there, getting lost in one another. The first kiss had continued into several more and they could’ve been at it for several sunlit days for all she knew. By the time they broke apart, Daenerys was shivering in the cold. He had brought her inside immediately and forced her to sit by the fire but didn’t press for anything more. After another hour of conversation, he had simply taken her hand, kissed her palm, and went back to his rooms.

“He was quite the gentleman actually.” Daenerys told Missy. “I had hoped he’d be less proper than he was.”

Missandei chuckled. “It doesn’t look like you’re too disappointed though.”

Dany smiled wide. “Our time together was more than satisfactory.”

Not willing to share any more of her night with her friend, they went about their normal morning routine. Daenerys washing her face and sweaty areas, dressing in a heavy woolen dress, and Missandei braiding her hair. She was just sitting down to break her fast in her solar when Tyrion appeared.

“Good morning, Your Grace, Missandei.” He nodded at both of them as he took a seat at the table. “I’m going to assume that last night went well? Nothing seems burned or singed in here.”

“We had a productive discussion.” Daenerys coolly replied. Tyrion had a way of inserting himself into every personal matter that presented itself, and she didn’t want to give him any ammunition against her growing relationship with Jon. “Jon will lead our armies in the battles to come, providing a bridge between our forces and the native Westerosi, and in return we will supply him with anything he needs to fight the Others.”

Tyrion swallowed his wine too hard, coughing quickly. “Wait, all that he’s going to give us is a commander for a few battles and we have to give him all of our forces, your dragons, and the resources of Dragonstone? What kind of negotiation is that?”

Daenerys cut him a sharp look. “I believe him about the army of the dead, you remember what the red priestess said when she visited us here. He will need all the help he can get. As for what he’s giving me, I now have a seasoned Westerosi military commander, and possibly legitimate Targaryen who won’t fight me for the throne.”

“You know, when you suggested having your negotiations one on one, I thought ‘This is an excellent idea! He’ll be distracted by her and give her anything she wants!’. I didn’t for one-minute think that you’d be the one distracted into giving up way more than you should.” Tyrion said, scoffing at her. “I know he’s attractive, and maybe as Targaryens you’re ‘magically’ drawn to each other, but please tell me you’re not going to give up everything we’re trying to achieve for a pretty face.”

Everything in Daenerys stilled. Her inner dragon caught fire, and all she could see was red. She turned slowly to look at Tyrion. His eyes widened; prey captured in the gaze of a predator. “I have been fighting for my place, for my home, for this throne since I was sold to the Dothraki. I have had to kill my brother, burn my husband, sacrifice my child, and give up a life of comfort in Meereen to be here. What did you have to do to get here, Tyrion? What were you forced to give up? I asked you to be my Hand, to advise me, not to dictate my life to me.”

He gulped hard. “You asked me to be your Hand because you know I’ll tell you when I feel like you’ve made a mistake.”

“And you think I’ve made a mistake?” Daenerys asked harshly, still trying to reign in her temper.

“You’re the one who told me that you couldn’t have children. Now we’re faced with another Targaryen, which you’ve basically accepted as truth, and you are negotiating ‘privately’ with him.” Tyrion said, giving her a look.

“Are you under the impression, Lord Tyrion, that any man I am alone with I am probably lying with?” She asked him.

“No.” He responded. “That’s not what I…”

“Good. Not that it matters, it wouldn’t even be a concern who I invited to my chambers if I were a man.” Daenerys looked at him seriously.

“Clearly I’ve offended you, Your Grace.” He said backpedaling. “That was not my intention, but it is my job to make sure that we get the best out of our alliances.”

“And Jon Snow, Jaehaerys Targaryen, Jon Targaryen, whatever he wants to be called is giving everything he has to give.” Daenerys responded. “From what I understand, there are very few fighting men left in the North, not only are they needed to prepare for the coming war there, but they wouldn’t get here in time for our battles anyway. What more can I ask of him, that he fights for me, and swears allegiance to me as queen? You yourself admitted he was an honorable man; can I not take his word?”

Tyrion sighed. “I do believe you can trust his word, Your Grace. But it is rather obvious that the two of you are drawn to one another. I would just counsel you to be careful with your feelings.”

“Very well.” Daenerys replied, her temper slowly cooling. “Missandei, would you summon Lord Snow please? I’d like to show him where he can find the resources he requires and reiterate our position in this alliance.” She said rolling her eyes at Tyrion.

“Thank you, Your Grace.” He said to her as Missandei went to fetch Jon.

Tyrion had left by the time Missandei returned with Jon Snow. He was just as fetching as he’d been the night before. Then he had come to her casually dressed, his breastplate and gambeson forgone in favor of just his quilted jerkin. Now he stood before her fully clothed with his sword and cloak. He looked every inch a Northern warrior, hard and proven. Then he met her eyes and the corners of his lips turned up in a soft smile. Everything in her melted at the sight. Tyrion might have had a point when he suggested she was distracted by the man. She could barely think of anything besides their kisses the night before.

“Your Grace.” He greeted in his Northern brogue. “You sent for me?”

“Yes, Lord Snow, I was wondering if you were available to go explore the island a little with me. I thought we could go look for your dragonglass.” She said, trying to keep the hope out of her voice. Based on his soft smile, she was sure she hadn’t.

“I am available, Your Grace. And apparently appropriately dressed.” He laughed lightly.

He offered her his arm, and she blushed and took it. Maybe Tyrion was right. She was acting like a common maiden who got asked to accompany a young handsome lord. He was just so disarming, everything about him drew her in unexpectedly. She was slightly disappointed to see a small group of Unsullied joining them, most likely at Tyrion’s request. They didn’t get very far before a group of Northmen also joined them, bowing their heads to Jon and addressing him as ‘Your Grace’.

“For someone who has no desire to be King, your men seem to have no problem giving you the title.” Dany said.

He sighed. “The North respects strength and honor. Certain experiences in my life have given me the reputation of someone with both qualities. They want someone who will put them before themselves. Maybe that’s why they’re so wary of a southern ruler. They are rather irate that I’m not addressed by my proper titles by your people.”

“You came here already claiming to be the King with a Targaryen name, my advisors are weary and don’t want to cede any power to you.” Dany shrugged, she had answered truthfully. “I can talk to them about it.”

“I don’t particularly care, Your Grace, but I do know it matters to them.” Jon said. “Tell me more about the type of ruler you want to be so maybe I can convince them you’re worthy of their titles.”

She tamped down her quick flash of anger at the request. He was just curious, not trying to insult her by insinuating she would not be welcome as a ruler in the North. “I came here to break the wheel. That’s what I told Tyrion when he joined me in Meereen.” Daenerys said, looking at him as they made their way down the beach. “For centuries, our families have rolled over the commoners in the Seven Kingdoms, vying for power. I didn’t want that. I don’t want that anymore for Westeros.”

He looked at her curiously. “Forgive me, Your Grace, but you’ve come here as a Targaryen queen to retake a throne your family has held for centuries. How exactly does that break this wheel?”

“I learned a long time ago that you need to be in power to give others power. I’m trying to take back the throne so I build something new, something better.” She responded.

He nodded. “I understand that. Before I was Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch, no one would give the Free Folk a chance. They live by their own rules, they don’t kneel, and they’re a wild bunch, but they’re still men. Just born on the wrong side of the Wall.” He looked haunted as he spoke. “Until I had the position, I couldn’t do anything to help them. No matter how much I tried. They just want to survive, that’s why they pushed at the Wall, why they tried to cross it.”

“Aren’t the wildlings known for pillaging and raping the Northerners?” Daenerys asked, curious.

“Yes, and a fair amount of them have earned that reputation, but many of them are just trying to get somewhere safe.” Jon said. “But it’s hard for the Northerners to see that after centuries of prejudice.”

“That’s why I want to change things.” Daenerys said excitedly. “When I left Meereen, I allowed them to elect their own leaders, make their own laws.”

“And that’s what you want to do in Westeros?” Jon asked, skeptical of this plan.

She shook her head. “Not quite. I learned a lot from my time in Meereen. I tried to change things too quickly and too harshly. Westeros is set in its ways, but I think there are things that are ready to change.”

“Like what?” He asked.

“I’d like to do away with the concept of bastards.” She started, raising her eyebrows at him. “No one should be able to just write off their children, and those children shouldn’t pay for the decisions of their parents. I’d also like to clean up King’s Landing. I’ve never been in the city, but Tyrion tells me that many of its citizens live in squalor, that the streets run with feces. I experience similar circumstances as a young girl moving from place to place as a poor beggar with my brother. And most important and the most difficult task is I’d like for the smallfolk to have their own representation in court. I just imagine a country where the nobility and the smallfolk both have a say. I was thinking they could elect those representatives and they would work with the nobles of the court to help implement laws and mandates. Westeros is as much their home as it is the noble’s.”

Jon looked at her with a look of awe, at some point they had stopped walking and they just stood there staring at each other. They were silent for a long moment. “That’s a world I would very much like to see, Your Grace.” He said softly.

“It’s a world I’d like you to help me build Jon.” She said to him seriously. They stared into each other’s eyes for a long period of time.

“I can see why they all follow you, why they all came to Westeros for you. You’re going to change the world Daenerys Targaryen. I pity the man who gets in your way.” He said with a kind smile.

She beamed up at him. “Yes, he’ll have you to contend with, right?” He nodded at her. “Come on, Your Grace, we have dragonglass to find!” She wiggled her eyebrows at his title and took his hand to drag him toward the northern caves.

They stepped together into the large, dark caves. Almost immediately Jon turned to her. “They’re here, aren’t they? Your dragons?” His eyes were blown wide, his pupils huge.

“You can feel them, can’t you?” She smiled. He nodded in return. “I’m not ready for you to meet them yet, they’re still settling here.” She tried not to give away the state that Rhaegal was in. Jon may not repeat it, but they were still surrounded by his men and the last thing she needed anyone to know was that her sons were not totally well. “As you can see most of the walls in here are made of dragonglass.” She said, attempting to distract him. It worked, and he walked towards one of the walls with his hand extended. He moved toward a different passageway than she had taken before, moving away from the dragons and the hot springs.

“Look at this.” He said in awe. “It’s more than we could ever need. We can mine this?” He asked, turning toward her. She nodded in return. He looked back at a few of his men and they moved forward to look at the walls as well and started to discuss the mining process. He turned to look further into the cave. “What is this?” He asked, more to himself than to her. She followed him as moved in. The Unsullied moved to follow her, but she waved them off.

As they made their way further in, the light from his torch lit on a long stone slab with a divot down the middle. Trenches lead to and from the slab which was the same height as a table. In the wall behind the slab were several open chutes that looked like small fireplaces. Several tools were scattered along the floor or lined up against the wall. The entire setup was covered in a thick layer of dust. Some of the tools were nearly buried in the floor of the cave. Jon picked something up off the ground, as it hit the light, she could see it and gasped. It was a blade, the size of a knife. The metal had a distinctive pattern. “Valyrian steel.” Jon whispered. “This must have been a forge for Valyrian steel.” He looked at her with wide eyes. “It’s one of the few things that kills the Others.”

“We could make weapons and armor.” She said excitedly back to him.

“No, we couldn’t.” He said sadly. “This may have been a forge for it, but the secret to creating Valyrian steel died long ago. No one knows how to forge it anymore.”

“We’re Targaryens, Jon.” She said emphatically. “If anyone can figure it out, we can.”’

He looked at her, fire in his eyes. She was acutely aware that they were alone. The tension that had been simmering between them all morning finally exploded. She didn’t know who moved first but all of the sudden they were back in the same position as the night before. They simply devoured each other. Neither one seemed to be able to get close enough. Jon was holding the torch still in one hand, but that didn’t slow him down. Their tongues played back and forth in each other’s mouths. Teeth clashed as they got even more aggressive. His teeth sunk into her lower lip. She responded by sinking her nails into the back of his neck. Just as she was about to wrap herself around him, someone cleared their throat loudly.

They broke apart to see one of the Northmen, he was very small and had an amused grin on his face. “Your Graces, we have company outside the cave so maybe you could detach yourselves long enough to go meet them?”

She turned to Jon, “Do all of your men speak to you this way?”

Jon answered, obviously annoyed. “No, only this one.” The soldier grinned cheekily and turned back the way he had come. “We’d better go see who needs our attention.” Jon said. She was frustrated, were they ever going to go any further with this?

***

Whatever interruption Dany was expecting to be waiting for her outside of the cave, it wasn’t the one standing before her now. Jorah, appearing in good health, standing in his armor, flanked by Qhono and five more Dothraki.

“This man says he is your friend, Khaleesi.” Qhono said in Dothraki.

A smile crossed her face, “He is my friend.” She responded.

Jorah came forward and kneeled before her. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Jon eyeing him speculatively. “Your Grace.” Jorah said simply, then stood up from his position.

She turned to introduce the two men “Jon Snow, this is Ser Jorah Mormont, an old friend.” She watched as Jorah inspected Jon from head to toe, Jon returned the gesture. She nearly rolled her eyes at the two posturing Northmen.

“I served with your father. He was a great man. I was his steward.” Jon said, surprising her.

Jorah nodded sadly. “He was a good man. He deserved a better son. Were you with him at the end?”

“No, I was a prisoner of the wildlings. He died in mutiny north of the Wall. He was avenged, I saw to that at least.” Jon said, his voice full of sorrow.

“I’ve been told you’re King in the North now.” Jorah said, raising his eyebrow. Jon nodded at him. “And Bear Island?” Jorah asked.

“Lady Lyanna Mormont is it’s master.” Jon responded, a smile graced his face. “You’d like her, she’s fierce and independent. One of the strongest people I’ve ever met. She stood for me when few would.”

“That sounds like Maege’s daughter.” Jorah nodded happily.

“You look strong.” Daenerys said, trying to move the conversation forward. Jorah nodded. “You found a cure?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t.” Jorah responded. She didn’t miss that he still stared at her with adoration. “I return to your service, my queen. If you’ll have me.”

“It would be my honor.” She responded with a smile. They might want different things in their relationship, but she knew she could always count on Jorah, no matter what. She stepped forward and hugged the older man. There were no romantic feelings there, nothing close to what she felt when she touched Jon. Nevertheless, she could feel the tension between the two men.

“I was healed by a rather brave maester at the citadel. He went beyond his mandate and even defied orders to help me.” Jorah said. “When I was released from their care, the young man found me and said that he could no longer serve at the expense of others. He’s a good man and has a family, I was hoping he could find refuge here.” Jorah turned to look behind him as a larger man was struggling to make his way through the sand surrounded by his own group of Dothraki who all looked very annoyed to have to walk so slow.

“And this is?” Daenerys asked.

“Samwell Tarly!” Jon exclaimed from behind her. He walked up to the large man and they grabbed each other, hugging hard. “What are you doing on Dragonstone? Did you read every book in the Citadel already?” The other man, Samwell stared back at Jon as if he was terrified of something. Jon started to panic “Gilly? She alright?” Samwell nodded. “Little Sam?” He nodded again.

“Jon, I’ve got so much to tell you, so much that I’ve learned, and you need to hear and see it.” Samwell said to him. “You too, Your Grace.” He said turning to her.

She and Jon looked at each other confused. She was frustrated that they were interrupted in the cave, but obviously this man had something that was important for her to hear. The entire group turned back towards the castle. Jon walked off to the side with the large man he obviously had a great amount of affection for. They spoke in hushed tones, surrounded by his Northmen. She turned to Jorah, who was walking beside him. “How do they know each other?” She questioned him.

“Samwell Tarly was at the Citadel training to be the next maester for the Night’s Watch. He was supposed to take over for the last one, Aemon Targaryen.” She turned to him quickly. “There was a Targaryen at the wall? I wonder why Jon didn’t mention it.”

Jorah seemed a bit taken aback that she referred to the King in the North by his given name. “I doubt he thought to, Your Grace. When they take the Black, they are supposed to abandon all allegiances to their birth families, the Watch becomes their family. I don’t know whether or not Jon Snow knew, or even if he did, it wasn’t of consequence in the order. They’re all meant to be equal there. Or it could just be that he forgot to tell you. It does make me wonder though, Sam was meant to be their new maester, and he told me that Jon was their Lord Commander after my father. Both of them have left the order, abandoned their vows. It’s odd, and not honorable. Something I would expect from a rapist sent to the Wall, but not two noble sons sent for their fathers’ honor.”

“Lord Snow told me he had reason for leaving the Night’s Watch and that he left honorably.” Daenerys said. “I don’t know all the details, but everyone seems to back that claim.”

“His sword is my family’s sword too.” Jorah said, almost growling at the younger man. “No doubt it was given to him by my father and judging by how Sam talked about him on our journey here, I know he must have earned it. But still it’s hard to see the evidence that your father favored another as a son.”

“Sam knew Jon was here?” She said, slipping to call him by his first name again.

“He was receiving ravens from someone in the North who kept him informed.” Jorah said. “He shared most of the news with me on the way down. Jon Snow took back Winterfell, was proclaimed King as a Targaryen?” He looked at her questioningly.

She nodded her head. “If it’s to be believed, he’s the son of my brother, Rhaegar, and Lyanna Stark.”

Jorah shook his head and looked at Jon with pity in his eyes. “A bastard born of rape, then.”

“There seems to be some question on that.” Daenerys said. “Lord Reed of Greywater Watch was supposedly the one who broke the news and he insisted that Jon is legitimate, not a bastard.”

Jorah grabbed her forearm and pulled her to a stop. “Khaleesi, this man is claiming that he is the legitimate son of your older brother? That would make him ahead of you in the line of succession. What are you doing spending time with him? By yourself?”

Daenerys looked up at him after forcibly removing her arm from his grasp. “He doesn’t want the throne.”

Jorah scoffed.

“He doesn’t.” Dany insisted. “He wants help in the North to defeat the Night King and his army.”

“The Night King.” Jorah let out a long breath. “Khaleesi, it’s a bedtime story, one that we tell our children to scare them into behaving.”

“So is Euron Greyjoy, and he’s alive and well.” Daenerys shot back. “So are dragons, and I birthed them from the flames. Why should the Others be any different?”

“I don’t trust him, Daenerys.” He said firmly.

“You don’t even know him, Ser Jorah.” Dany responded.

“Do you?” He asked.

She sighed. She wasn’t sure how to explain to anyone that she did trust Jon. She had been dreaming of him for years, had been drawn to him from the moment they met in the throne room. She knew it when they kissed. She was terrified that this was all some trick of the gods, and in the back of her mind was Tyrion’s voice insisting that she was being distracted from her goals by the feelings taking over her. Jon turned and looked back at her as if he could sense her inner turmoil. His grey eyes looked at her concerned. She didn’t know who to trust anymore.

“Let’s get up to the castle and see what Samwell brought us that is so important.” She said shakily. “Do you know what it is?”

Jorah shook his head. “We talked on the way here, but he was tight lipped about anything he wants to tell the Northman. He’s obviously very loyal to Jon Snow.”

They all moved to the painted table chamber almost immediately. Daenerys took her normal spot at Dragonstone. Jon, Robb, and Davos sat at the North, at their backs were four Northmen. She noticed that one of them was the smirking one from the cave. Jorah joined Missandei near the windows with several Unsullied. Arianne and Theon had not been invited to this particular meeting. Tyrion and Varys stood across from her, both looked at Sam skeptically.

“I was sent to study at the Citadel under the command of Lord Commander Jon Snow, to become the new maester of Castle Black.” The man began very nervously.

“You are the eldest son of Lord Tarly, are you not?” Tyrion asked shrewdly. “Why are you not at Horn Hill?”

“The same reason you’re not at Casterly Rock, Lord Tyrion.” Jon said firmly. A dark look was exchanged between the two before Tyrion turned to look at Sam with sympathy in his eyes and nodded for him to continue.

Samwell Tarly looked up at her nervously. She gave him a soft smile and nodded at him. “Please, continue.”

Sam blushed and pushed on. “I had many duties, one of which was to transcribe the diaries of previous High Septons. I was working late one night when my ... when Gilly read something interesting in High Septon Maynard’s diary. You see, he recorded everything, literally everything. How many steps there were in the Citadel, how many windows in the Great Sept of Baelor, it was tedious reading really. She was reading and she found an important entry. I felt that it was important combined with information that I had received from the North that I took several books from the Citadel and stowed away with my family and Jorah to come here immediately.”

Sam opened a huge tome on the table, he scrolled through the pages which were nearly yellow with age. ‘283 AC, Tower of Joy, Dorne. I married one Rhaegar, Prince of Dragonstone to his second wife, Lyanna Stark of Winterfell. The young bride was already with child, and the Prince’s first wife had agreed to the marriage. It was beyond by power to deny them if they all consented, and it turned the young woman’s child from a bastard to an heir. This was done with the following witnesses, Ser Arthur Dayne, Ser Oswell Whent, and Lord Commander Gerald Hightower. As a septon of the Faith, it was done legally and lawfully in the name of the Gods.’”

The room was silent for several long moments when all of the sudden, chaos erupted. The shouting back and forth contained insults and barbs being flung back and forth between her advisors and Robb, then between her advisors. There were only two silent people in the room, the two legitimate Targaryens.

She met Jon’s eyes across the table, but he seemed so far gone. It was one thing to accept your heritage, but another altogether to have it confirmed. For his entire life he had thought himself a bastard, when all along he was the heir to the Iron Throne. Robb had said something particularly nasty to Tyrion, when Jon finally seemed to wake from his daze. “Hush. Everyone. This only confirms what we already suspected to be true. Nothing has changed.” Davos looked at him like he was crazy. “Nothing has changed? Are you mad? Everything just changed Jon. We have proof that you are the legitimate heir to the Iron Throne.”

“I don’t want it. I don’t want the throne. I want to protect my people from the horrors coming to them.” Jon said firmly. “That is my purpose.”

“You do that as King, Jon.” Robb said. “That’s how you protect people.”

“Look, whether you want the throne or not, information like this is dangerous.” Tyrion said. “If it is even accurate and not a convenient reproduction. Someone will always favor you over Daenerys, always question her rule as long as you’re out there.”

“So, what do you suggest Lord Tyrion? You obviously have a plan in mind” Davos said. “It needs to protect them both, Jon and Daenerys for us to agree.”

“I need to speak with my queen before I put any solutions on the table.” Tyrion said. “Give us the evening. We’ll reconvene tomorrow and make a final decision on what to do about this.” He gestured to the diary as if it was going to jump up and bite him.

“Perhaps…” Varys began.

“The diary stays with Sam.” Davos said firmly, looking at Varys. The Spider nodded reluctantly and turned away with a disgusted look on his face.

“We’ll leave you to discuss. You know where to find us.” Jon said. Jon, Robb, Davos and their Northmen left the room.

Daenerys and her advisors sat in silence for a long while. It was clear that everyone was running scenarios in their heads. Jon was right when he said the diary simply confirmed the rumors, but he was wrong when he said it didn’t change anything. It changed everything. She turned to look at Tyrion with a sigh. “Well, we knew this wasn’t going to be easy. What do you have in mind?”

“You’re not going to like it.” Tyrion started ominously. “But we need to think about all involved here. You’re a woman trying to claim a throne that has been held only by men exclusively until my sister, who took it by force and is holding the Kingdoms hostage. Jon Snow, Jaehaerys Targaryen, is a well-respected, honest man. And like it or not, with proof of his lineage, his claim is stronger than yours.”

She opened her mouth to argue with him, but he continued. “I know he says he doesn’t want it, and I do believe him when he says that, but other people want him to have it. Robb was practically salivating when Sam revealed his information. Davos was ready to hand him a crown just then. This whole thing could result in another Dance.”

“Jon Snow doesn’t have dragons. I do. He doesn’t have large armies. I do. Even if he wanted the throne, I have the advantage.” Daenerys said surely.

“You’ll go nowhere without the people backing you.” Varys said. “You could have all the firepower in the world, and you do, but if the people decide they want Jon Snow, you’ll never have peace.”

“Which is why we’re down to very few options.” Tyrion said.

Daenerys took a deep breath but motioned for Tyrion to continue.

“If this gets out, and it will without us acknowledging it, it will look like we’ve usurped him, or as if you are coming in to take over without consequences.” Tyrion reasoned. “I don’t think that’s what any of us want. You want to reshape the world and give power back to the people. I appreciate that, and I want you to accomplish those goals. It will be impossible if we try and hide this information. Someone will leak it. The only way it goes away is if we kill everyone who was sitting in this room. Which is not an option.” He said, looking to Varys who went to speak.

“This is my solution.” Tyrion squared his shoulders and looked her in the eye sympathetically. “You’ve told me you can’t have children. You need an heir. We were going to figure that out once you had the throne, but this has provided us with the perfect opportunity. We allow the rumors to be confirmed. We tell all of Westeros, the entire world that Jon Snow is a Targaryen, a trueborn Targaryen. He backs your claim, and he takes his place as your heir. Jon Targaryen becomes Prince of Dragonstone while you are Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.”

“He might agree to that, but his advisors won’t.” Varys suggested. “Not without some sort of long-term incentive.”

“This is the more difficult part. Jon Snow, or Jaeherys Targaryen, Jon Targaryen, I’m still figuring that out, would have to marry.” Tyrion’s eyes left her face, as if he didn’t want to look at her. “His children would be the heirs to the Iron Throne, and his line would continue the Targaryen family.”

Daenerys froze. She knew logically that this was coming. It was the best option to ensure a peaceful realm, but it meant giving up whatever was starting between them. She shouldn’t feel this strongly about it, she’d known the man for three days, but she couldn’t help but feel as if she’d just lost something profound. She took a deep breath and after a few moments she nodded. Her dreams had led her and Jon together, but reality was going to keep them apart. Maybe the whole reason they were drawn together in the first place was to accomplish these goals, to build this new world together. Even as she thought it, she knew it was wrong. Deep in her bones she knew she was meant to be with Jon Snow, but she couldn’t give up everything just for him. She had people to protect, and too many things to do. She just wanted to retire to her chambers, hide under the bedding and cry.

“I’ll tell him.” Dany said, her voice solid. “He deserves to hear it from me, and he needs to know that it was my decision.”

“We still need to decide on a marriage alliance for you, Your Grace.” Tyrion said. “There may not be children through the union, but you can still broker peace, maybe with Robb Stark. Cement your status in the North?” He looked at her hopefully, but at her angry face, he once again dropped his eyes.

“I’ll think about it, Tyrion. That won’t get solved today.” Daenerys replied with a dead voice. Varys nodded, Tyrion still refused to look at her, and Missandei was sending her pitying looks. They were all just trying to help, she knew, but she couldn’t help but feel a slight anger and frustration at them all. Her inner dragon growled at the choice, upset that she was going against her very nature and denying herself what she believed was her destiny.

She left the chamber and went to look for Jon. She found him in the dining hall, surrounded by his men at his table talking to Arianne Martell. The woman was not shy about her interest. She was leaning into Jon, curling her hair around her fingers, gazing up into his eyes. For his part, Jon looked like he just wanted to get away from the woman. The smirking soldier from earlier was sitting across the table from them, watching the woman with a look of disgust. Robb on the other hand, was taking a drink of wine and looking at Arianne with heat in his eyes. 

Arianne put her hand on Jon’s arm, and a dark feeling of anger and possession overcame Dany. She almost stepped forward to claim him when she realized that this would be their future. He would find a woman to marry, and she would always be on the outside looking in. They would no doubt spend time together, especially if he became her heir, but she would never have him at her side, would never be able to claim him in front of others. The anger seeped out of her as sadness took hold. She knew there were very limited options, she could marry him, she would happily rule with him as her King, but their family deserved to survive. Not for the first time, she hated her younger, naïve self who put herself in the path of a vengeful witch. There was nothing to be done about it now.

She sighed and walked over to the Northerner’s table. Her heart skipped a beat when he looked up at her, happiness shining in his dark eyes. This was going to be terrible. “Your Grace, I wondered if you had a moment? I thought we might tour through Aegon’s garden.”

“It would be my honor, Your Grace.” He said, a clear note of gratitude clear in his voice. He detached himself from Arianne who looked affronted for a brief moment before turning her attention to Robb. He stood and offered his arm. She couldn’t help but remember the same gesture earlier in the day, then she was full of happiness and hope, now dread and misery had taken their place.

They walked silently through the castle toward the back courtyard. The front of the castle held a practice ring of sorts in that courtyard, but this one was full of plants. It stood between the main keep, the Stone Drum and Windwyrm tower. Jon looked at the tower in fascination, different from the sharp lines that characterized the main keep, Windwyrm tower was shaped like a dragon looking menacing in the dark. The garden was full of roses and trees and smelled of deep pine. “This reminds me of the Godswood in Winterfell. It is centered with a giant Heart Tree.” Jon said. “Maester Luwin told us that all the keeps at one point had weirwoods in their gardens. I wonder if there’s one here.”

Daenerys shrugged. “I don’t know, I haven’t spent much time here, and I confess I don’t know what a weirwood even looks like.”

Jon turned to her and smiled. “They have a pure white trunk and branches, and their leaves are always red. The Children of the Forest carved faces in them, and that is where we hear the Old Gods.”

She shivered, his voice becoming even more heavy with his northern accent when he spoke about their customs. She could listen to him talk all day. She scoffed at herself, she was also becoming a pile of mush around this man.

“Jon, I need to tell you about the solution my advisors have devised.” She spoke quickly, wanting to get it over with. “I’ve agreed to it, I think it’s a sound plan, but I’m afraid it won’t go over well with everyone.”

“Nothing is ever agreed upon by everyone,” he chuckled.

“Tyrion wants to come out ahead of this.” She continued. “He thinks if we tackle it together, it will ease some of the problems we might have with the lords.”

He nodded. “I’m in favor of it so far. Robb and Davos have been all over me to claim my heritage, so it will at least shut them up.”

“Jon, I can’t have children.” She said it quickly and looked up at him.

Silence reigned between them for a long moment as he watched her. “Who told you that?” He asked back.

“The witch who cursed me after killing my husband.” She answered seriously.

He looked at her for a long moment, probably trying to judge how serious she was. “Have you ever considered that she might have told you that to prevent any future happiness? It could be that she didn’t have that amount of power.”

Her heart contracted at that. “You and I have both seen our fair share of magic, impossible things that no one should know or ever see. I believe her, I’ve had lovers since, and nothing.”

“Tyrion wants me to produce your heirs, doesn’t he?” Jon was quick to put the pieces together.

“You would be named my heir. The Prince of Dragonstone, a title that was last held by your father.” She said with a sarcastic smile. “And yes, you would be expected to marry and produce children for our house.” All traces of a smile had left her face now, this was a miserable affair.

“You want me to take the Targaryen name, marry another woman, and father children?” He asked harshly.

“It’s the best solution going forward and…” Daenerys started.

“And what will you do?” He asked, fire lighting his eyes. “Marry some other rich dolt so you can claim some empty alliance?”

That heated her blood. “What would you have me do, Jon? You’re the only Targaryen who can have children. I want our family to survive. I want a legacy to leave.”

“And what would have been your legacy if I wouldn’t have existed? What were you planning to do with the future if you can’t create your own heirs?” He was nearly shouting at her.

“We hadn’t gotten that far yet, but you being here provides us with a solution.” Daenerys fired back.

Jon sighed. “I know this may sound stupid to you, maybe I’m a bit naïve, but I thought this was going somewhere.” He said gesturing between the two of them.

“It was.” Daenerys said miserably. “But now it can’t.”

Jon looked her in the eye for a long time before he finally scoffed. “I don’t know why I feel like this, we’ve only known each other for days, but I feel like I’m losing something important.”

Daenerys wanted to assure him that she felt the same way. She did. They had been bound together by some invisible thread, but she didn’t want to give him any ammunition to argue with her. “This is the best solution for all of us, you’ll see that in the end.”

He just shook his head at her. She didn’t have anything more to say, nothing more to give him. So she bade him goodnight and left him standing alone amongst the roses. She made it all the way back to her chambers before collapsing on her bed in tears. The day had started off so perfectly and she was so happy, now all she felt was misery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you comment...I know that having Valyrian steel forges at Dragonstone is not canon according to the books. I'm aware, but in this story, they exist, that's that. 
> 
> Also, I know that the likelihood of having a septon approve of a plural marriage is a long shot and maybe unrealistic, but again, my story. 
> 
> I hope you're enjoying where this is going! We can't have a story without a little angst right?


	11. Jon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon confides in Davos and Robb about the succession offer from Daenerys. He receives information from Winterfell. Jon and Davos go on an expedition and gain a few new allies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!!!
> 
> I just want to say, this fic is my first fanfiction, and it's the first time that I've really posted anything that I've written. It has created an outlet for me from all of the crap happening in the world around us. I just want to thank everyone who is reading and commenting, you've really given me something to look forward to every few days. 
> 
> Okay, enough of the sappy stuff. Back to Jon's POV.
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> As always, thank you my beta, AbstractlySydney!

Jon couldn’t decide if he was angry with Daenerys, or just sad about the whole situation. He could blame their advisors. Tyrion had obviously suggested the plan after Davos pressed him to claim his birthright. But she had agreed, she had decided for them. For him. He was so sick of people deciding his life for him. It was one of the reasons that he bonded so quickly with the Free Folk. They didn’t care what he did, or who he chose to be, they just let him live. He’d be lying if he didn’t acknowledge the desire to run back to the North with his tail between his legs. He paced his chambers as Ghost watched him carefully. It didn’t really make any sense how attached he was to her after a few short days, but he just knew it felt right with her. Now it would never really be anything, just a long-forgotten possibility. He laid down on his bed fully dressed and closed his eyes, he just needed an escape from all of it.

Jon woke to the sound of someone pounding on the door. He groaned and rolled out of the bed, the sun had risen, hitting him in the face, and Ghost sat by the door, looking impatient to get out. He hissed in a short breath as he made his way to open it. Sleeping in leather and metal was not comfortable, he hadn’t even taken off his boots. Davos’s face greeted him as he swung open the door. “You look like shit.” The older man said.

“Nice to see you too, Davos.” Jon grumbled and moved out of the way. Ghost snuck out, likely to relieve himself and go hunting. Before he entered, Davos ordered one of their men to bring up some food for Jon to break his fast. Jon moved to the sideboard and removed his clothes piece by piece. He took the time to clean his face and use the privy. By the time the man was back with food, Jon was fully clothed again without his armor. He sat down at the table and gulped down a cup of wine. It was too sweet for him, he missed ale. The strong drink of the North would have brought him back to his senses.

“You want to tell me what happened last night lad?” Davos asked kindly. “I thought for sure you two were sneaking off for a little private time, but this is not a man who spent some time with a beautiful woman.”

“Her Grace and I discussed her strategy for dealing with Sam’s new information. It was a less than pleasant conversation.” Jon took another drink of the wine.

“Well, let’s have it then.” Davos prompted Jon.

“Where’s Robb?” Jon asked. “I’d rather not have to repeat myself.”

“Dunno.” Davos said. “Stopped to get him on the way here but he wasn’t in his room.”

Jon looked at Davos. “Who'd you see him with last?”

“Princess Arianne.” Davos answered with a chuckle. “Don’t know if he can handle that one, I’ve heard stories about the Dornish and everything I’ve seen with her seems to be right in line. Once she was done with you last night, she moved to him quickly.”

Jon shuddered. Arianne was very forward in her attentions. Jon appreciated a strong woman who knew what she wanted, Ygritte was that way…so was Daenerys, but Arianne was a little much. A little too comfortable teasing him and overzealous in her approach. She was a beautiful woman for sure, just not one he was interested in. No doubt she’d be on the list that Tyrion was most likely writing of his possible marriage alliances. The thought made him queasy. He never expected to be married, especially not to a woman that wasn’t his choice. Just then the door flung open and in walked a disheveled Robb. Both Jon and Davos looked up at him. His cheeks were full of color and his blue eyes were dancing merrily. His smile was huge as he greeted them both.

“That’s the look of a man who spent the night with a beautiful woman.” Davos said, jabbing his thumb in Robb’s direction.

Robb got defensive fast. “And so? What’s it to you?”

Jon knew that his brother had suffered greatly when he lost his wife and child. He had confessed on their journey to Dragonstone that he didn’t think he’d ever lay with another woman for a long time. Jon hadn’t said anything, but that sentiment had obviously changed between his brush with death and his arrival at Winterfell. Robb had had several companions over the last few months, and it appeared his most recent one was Arianne Martell. Davos just shrugged and shook his head. “No offense meant. Your brother was just about to explain why he doesn’t have the same look about him.” Davos responded to Robb.

Robb turned to look at Jon. “You look like shit.”

Jon rolled his eyes as Davos chuckled. “Enough, even if something had happened between Daenerys and I, I wouldn’t tell either one of you about it.”

“So what did the Dragon Queen have to say about our most recent developments then?” Robb asked. “She ready to give up the throne?”

Jon looked at his brother. “I’m not going to ask her to give up the throne, so you might as well get over it.” Robb tried to interrupt, but Jon continued. “No. You need to understand, she’s a good woman, with a good heart, and her plans will bring new life to Westeros. She’ll be a good queen, and we’ll all be there to help her.”

“Jon, I know that you were raised in my shadow, but the truth is I should’ve been in yours! You’re a good man, with a good heart, and you will save Westeros from the Night King. You’d be a great king; all you’d need to do is stake your claim.” Robb said.

“This argument is getting old. I don’t want to be king. I’m sure I could do it, but I don’t want to.” Jon looked at Davos then. “And the way things are shaping up it looks like I never will be.”

Both of his advisors’ faces went dark, scowls appearing. He took a deep breath and explained what he had learned the night before. “Daenerys offered to make me her heir, I would officially take on the name Targaryen and the title Prince of Dragonstone. Apparently, I would be expected to get married and produce heirs for House Targaryen.”

Davos looked at him curiously. “Why would you produce the heirs to House Targaryen? She can do that herself.”

“She insists that she can’t have children. A curse, by a witch.” Jon said skeptically.

“And if she’s tricking you? What if she can have children and is just giving this to you to keep you placated until she’s married with a child on the way?” Robb asked.

Jon thought back to the night before and their conversation in Aegon’s Garden. When she had explained about her lack of fertility there had been a great deal of pain in her eyes. She had also been so angry when he suggested that the witch’s curse might be false. She wasn’t faking it.

“I don’t think it’s a ruse. I saw the look in her eyes when she told me. She’s convinced that she’s barren.” Jon said thoughtfully.

“So they offered you the position of her heir to keep you in line. A Targaryen, one in the line of succession, but off the throne.” Davos said, reasoning through it. “It could work, but there will always be those that question why she’s on the throne and not you.”

“I can’t help that, but I can tone it down by taking her side.” Jon said.

“So you’ve decided then?” Robb asked. “You’ll become a Targaryen and have to be addressed by Your Grace? Never to be King, but to continue your family line like a breeding stud?”

“It seems there’s no other option. They’ve left me with no other comfortable solution. What am I going to do? I can’t force her to marry me.” Jon said, resolved. “I don’t want to be responsible for another war. I believe in her and what she’s trying to accomplish, and this puts me in the position to use her resources against the Night King.”

“But it also forces you into a life you never wanted.” Davos inferred.

“It seems I’ll never get what I want, so I might as well do what’s best for the most amount of people I can.” Jon replied miserably. He never really had a vision of what his entire life would be. At first, he thought he would find honor at the Wall and serve there all his days. Then the new vision had been a life in Winterfell with his siblings, a world at peace after the Night King was defeated. The last few days however, that vision had turned and instead of his siblings by his side it was a queen with silver hair. Now his life would take a different turn, this one the most painful as he had finally discovered which life he actually wanted. If only she had wanted it just as much. It seemed unfair that a life she so desperately avoided, being sold to produce heirs was now his fate.

Robb and Davos both looked uncomfortable with his decision and his acquiescence. “You deserve some happiness Jon. We can put off finding a woman to marry.” Davos said softly.

Robb nodded his agreement. “There’s no rush. We’ll tell them yes for now, but you won’t select a wife until after the wars are won. That will at least buy us some time to find a happy solution for you. I don’t want you to be miserable forever if we can help it.” Robb smirked at the end, trying to raise the spirits in the room.

***

The next few days were quiet on Dragonstone. Everyone was in a holding pattern until one of the armies called on them to help. Sam had settled in with Gilly and Little Sam, the latter of which had grown so big. Sam had been spending time with the two maesters of Dragonstone, hoping that they could help complete any training he had missed out on. Davos and Robb had helped Jon decide that he would go by Jon Targaryen from then on, it seemed like a good compromise. Arya had made herself scarce, he wasn’t even sure if she was still the thin soldier anymore or if she had found another disguise.

Jon avoided Daenerys as best he could, always finding a reason to be somewhere else in the castle. He had seen Ser Jorah with her anytime he spotted her. The older man looked at her as if a man starved. He was clearly in love with her, whether Daenerys acknowledged it or not was a mystery. When they were in the same room together, she seemed to always try and catch his eye, he deliberately kept his back to her most of the time. Tyrion had sought him out once but had backed off quickly when Jon practically growled at him. Varys didn’t even try, one look from Jon’s steely gaze was all it took to make him back off.

Since it would be his role to be the commander for her armies, he had taken the time to try and get to know the Dothraki and Unsullied on the island. The Unsullied had taken to calling him “Your Grace” no doubt informed about his changed role within the Targaryen family. They were a regimented bunch, even in their free time, very few of them actually relaxing. Jon had grown fond of an Unsullied called White Runt. Jon had tried to explain to him that Ghost had also been a white runt when he was born, which had made the soldier laugh. It turned out that White Runt had been the smallest of his Unsullied brethren but that made him extremely fast. They found themselves sparring in the training courtyard frequently. It was very different fighting a man that used a spear, and White Runt confessed he did not have a lot of experience with opponents who favored the sword. He and Jon would go at it for hours, learning new techniques from each other on how to best an opponent. Many of the Unsullied watched and White Runt translated much of Jon’s instruction into their native Valyrian. He had also learned a few basic commands from them, to make battle easier.

The Dothraki were the exact opposite of the Unsullied. They had little to no discipline, always trying to outdo one another and reminded him quite a bit of the Free Folk. Jon knew how to get on their good graces. The first time Qhono and his friends came to watch Jon spar, Jon challenged him immediately. Jon didn’t know a single word of Dothraki, but he knew taunting when he heard it, and the Dothraki liked to talk. Fighting them was much different, they fought closer to their bodies, like a swordsman, but with an arakh. The blades were wicked sharp and none of them used practice weapons. Qhono had stepped into the fighting ring with him confidently but left with his head down. Try as they might, warrior after warrior fell to his sword. Jon may have won the matches, but didn’t escape unscathed. Cuts and bruises covered him nearly head to toe. Jon knew it was just his way of coping with the misery of his situation with Daenerys. On the third day of sparring, he felt a familiar set of eyes boring into him. He turned slightly and saw Daenerys standing on one of the balconies overlooking the courtyard, her eyes burning into him. He ignored her and went back to the practice. He beat all three Dothraki that had challenged him in record time.

“I don’t know how you’ll get them all to fight together, their styles are so completely different.” Davos said one evening at the meal.

Jon looked to Robb, who had more experience planning battles. “It’s not about getting them to fight together,” Robb explained. “It’s about using each force where they’ll be most effective. The Unsullied are extremely regimented and hold a firm line, good for defense. The Dothraki are calvary, it’s said that they can hit a target with an arrow from a horse from yards away. By the time they get on top of you, they swamp you. Great for offense and great for terrifying your opponent.”

“They all seemed quite impressed with Jon, and he hasn’t even lit his sword on fire yet.” Arya added, still disguised as the thin smirking soldier.

“Or used two at once.” Robb added.

“Wait, he can do that?” Arya asked, awed.

Robb nodded. “I saw him at the Battle of Winterfell, right after Rickon died. He was in full berserker mode, taking down anyone that came near.” Robb explained, his eyes glazing as if he was reliving the moment in his head. “It was a thing of beauty. Too many men were surrounding him to take out with just one sword so he grabbed a second one from the ground. He started really clumsy, but after a few minutes, no one was even getting close to him.”

“Spectacular.” Arya said to Jon excitedly. “We’ve still yet to spar brother.”

“I don’t know if I can keep up with you after watching that display with Brienne in Winterfell.” Jon laughed back at her.

Just then Sam approached the Northmen’s table. “Jon,” Sam smiled nervously. “A raven from Winterfell, it bears the Stark sigil and is from Lady Sansa.” Jon nodded at him. “Thanks Sam. Take a seat, will you?” Sam nodded his head and took a seat on the other side of him from Davos.

Jon broke the seal and opened the role. It was several sheets long and written in Sansa’s precise handwriting. He read the first line, but then quickly rolled the scroll back up. Robb looked confused. “Not here.” Jon said, nodding to Tyrion and Varys, both were looking their way curiously with the arrival of the missive.

After finishing their meal, Jon and his company made their way to his room. There had been some conversation about moving him into the apartments meant for the Targaryens, but with their alliance still fragile, it was decided that he would remain in his original rooms close to Davos and Robb. Jon was grateful for it now after seeing what was in Sansa’s scroll. The first line read, ‘Read only with close allies. Trust no one.’ a quite ominous start to the letter. At the table with him sat Davos, Robb, Sam, and Arya who had taken off the Karstark face much to everyone’s fascination. Well, Robb had more of a disgusted look on his face really. Jon took a deep breath and unrolled the small pieces of parchment, reading out loud.

The first part of the missive was strictly espionage.

_ ‘Jon, these past few weeks without you and Robb have proven rather difficult. The Northern Lords are fickle, and Baelish has been maneuvering his way through them. Bran keeps an eye on his conversations in his strange way, it’s actually quite helpful. Larence Hornwood has also been keeping me up to date on what Littlefinger is spewing. I fear we may soon be in trouble. He is sowing dissent among them, looking for cracks, and he’s found a large chasm in Lord Glover. Before we can rid ourselves of Baelish, however, we need to get what we can from him. Since you are leading the Targaryen armies, I have subtly hinted to Littlefinger about King’s Landing. He has explained to me that he uses a network of women throughout the city, mostly whores that work in his brothels. His main contact is one called Clara in Flea Bottom. I think we can get her to turn on him, he speaks very lowly of her, but I can tell she holds a lot of influence down there. I’ve included a parchment with her address and a brief note on what to say to her if you should get the chance.’ _

All of them looked at each other. “How are we supposed to get into King’s Landing? And should we really be relying on whores to help us?” Robb asked skeptically.

Arya snorted. “Whores know the comings and goings of most soldiers. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if this Clara knew the entire schedule of the Lannister army.” Arya then turned thoughtful. “Also, if she’s annoyed with Baelish enough, which is definitely possible, she could turn to our side. This is actually quite brilliant of our sister.”

Jon thought about it for a long moment. Sansa had been so adamant that smallfolk and women wanted to fight for their lives too. He thought about Daenerys’s vision of a world where those people had more of a say in their day to day lives. Jon turned to Davos. “You know this area better than anyone, and you were a smuggler. Can you smuggle us into King’s Landing?”

“Seriously, really we’re going to do this?” Robb asked.

“Possibly, it’d be easier with a smaller group though. Don’t want to call attention to ourselves.” Davos said, ignoring Robb’s outburst.

“I shouldn’t go.” Robb said. They all looked at him curiously. “It’s not because of the plan. I fought the Lannister army for years, if anyone is likely to be recognized by them, it’s me.”

“I’m not going either.” Arya said. “You need someone here who can keep an eye on things.”

Jon nodded, he looked back down at the message and continued on to the next page.

_ ‘As for preparations. Most of the Northerners have retreated either to outlying islands or further south towards Winterfell. Deep trenches with spear points are being created across the northern plains. The young are being trained with every weapon, and the wildlings have been teaching people how to make warmer clothes. I do fear that we may need more weapons than we have. Not just men, but more steel will be required. It would be helpful if that was brought up by you. Bran and I both fare well, we’re being cautious and Bran is keeping one eye on the Night King. We both wish you safety and luck, brother. Sansa.’ _

Jon sighed and rolled up the scroll looking up at his family and advisors. The last paragraph had brought reality crashing back down on them. In a few short months they would be fighting the Night King and battling for every living person in Westeros.

“Well, I wish we had a blacksmith.” Said Robb finally. “It would be nice to make some new steel for the North. Maybe you could commission someone on your trip to King’s Landing.” He said jokingly.

“That’s not a bad idea actually.” Davos said. “I know a man, but the forges here aren’t very large.”

“We could see if the ones in the cave work, but they’re made to create Valyrian steel, I don’t know if they would work the same as a normal forge.” Jon said.

“What cave?” Davos asked. “I lived on this island for years and never saw forges in a cave.”

“The northern caves where we’re mining dragonglass. Further back, Daenerys and I found forges that were used to make Valyrian steel.” Jon explained.

“Too bad that knowledge has been lost to annuls of history.” Arya said. “I wouldn’t mind a Needle made out of Valyrian steel.”

Sam cleared his throat and stood up quickly. “I’ll be back.” He said and raced out the door.

Robb, Davos, and Arya all looked at Jon and he shrugged. “Sam’s brilliant and usually sees things the rest of us miss. He may not look like an asset, but he definitely is.”

“I’m concerned about Sansa being left in Winterfell with Baelish trying to worm his way in amongst the lords. She’s right, they can be a fickle bunch, constantly questioning every decision made. It always drove me mad.” Robb said. “If they decide to throw in with him, she could get caught in the crossfire.”

“Baelish doesn’t just want power. He wants Sansa too.” Arya said with a wrinkle of her nose. “That will keep her safe for now. I think it’s more likely that he turns the lords away from Jon than Sansa. They were already shaky about a Targaryen. They’ll be even more when he’s fully aligned with the Dragon Queen.”

“Speaking of, we all know you’ve been sneaking around.” Davos said. “Can you tell us what’s going on around here?”

“I used a young girl’s face from Braavos and started moving around the castle.” Arya started. “It sounds like no one has seen the dragons since the fleet was attacked at sea. Soldiers say the green dragon went mad and turned on their ships. I don’t know where they are now, and there is some concern Daenerys won’t be able to hold power without them.” Both Robb and Davos perked up at that.

“They’re here, on the island.” Jon said simply. “I can feel them, and she confirmed it. I don’t know their state, but they’re here and I wouldn’t test it.” He said looking at his advisor and siblings.

“Okay, well apart from that, there’s not a whole lot to report.” Arya said, shrugging. “I actually like her. She appears firm but fair and has an excellent relationship with those close to her. Varys is suspect, but then again, he always has been. She’s astute too. She’s been wary of my soldier face since I caught her and Jon kissing in the cave.”

Davos and Robb both turned to him at that. “Nothing’s come of it now, and it won’t ever.” Jon said bitterly. “She’s made her decision and apparently I’m just supposed to go along with it.”

Before they could embark on another painful conversation about the status of his relationship with Daenerys, the door opened, and Sam entered. He was carrying another large tome, like the one he read the truth of Jon’s parentage from. Sam found his seat again and set the volume down on the table. It was bound in dark red leather and there were strange gold glyphs on the front. “When I was at the Citadel,” Sam started. “I looked for anything that could help us against the White Walkers. We know that dragonglass, fire, and Valyrian steel can kill them, so I found this book. There are books from every corner of the world in that library. I think this one was found in Asshai. It’s written in Valyrian so there’s not much I can understand, but there are drawings of Valyrian steel and what look like forges.”

Jon gasped and leaned over to look at the ancient pages. Sure enough, there were detailed drawings of the forges that he had seen in real life down in the caves. “Do you know what this means?” Jon asked everyone excitedly. “We could create more Valyrian steel! Forge weapons that could save us up north!”

“It’s all in Valyrian. We’d need help from Daenerys not only to read it, but to use the forges, and probably her permission to go into King’s Landing.” Davos said. “While we’re there, there’s someone I can pick up that will be able to help us with this.”

Jon grabbed the book off the table and stood up. “Okay, let’s get this done.”

“What? Now?” Davos asked.

“Yes now. The sooner we get this sorted, the sooner we can get into the city, and then we can start working on new weapons. I don’t know how long this forging process takes, but I want to give us as much time as possible.” Jon said hurriedly. He was already moving toward the door. He was just excited to have a purpose again, something to do for their alliance besides get married and have children.

The rest of the group followed at a more sedate pace. They made their way up to the painted table chamber when Jon realized that she might not be there. She was there, with Tyrion huddled over endless sheets of parchment. She looked exhausted, but still so beautiful it hurt. Her violet eyes looked up as he entered the room and before she could hide her expression, he saw the happiness directed at him when he entered. As the room filled with his party behind him, she put her mask in place. The light that had been in her eyes evaporated and her queenly gaze was back in place. It sent a little pang to his heart to see it happen.

“Your Grace, we have a proposal.” Davos said, after glancing at him.

He could feel his cheeks heat. He had been staring at her and not paying attention to the fact that Tyrion was waiting for them to start. This was going to be harder than he thought. Working with her in close proximity would be akin to torture. He squared his shoulders and looked at Daenerys and Tyrion. “Sam found quite a few things in the Citadel; it appears.” Jon started. “I don’t read Valyrian but according to the illustrations in this volume, we may be able to figure out how to get the old forges in the cave to work.”

Daenerys’s eyes lit up and happy shock showed on her face. Jon took the book to them and set it on the table. Dany nodded as she looked it over. “This will work, I think.” She said looking up at Jon. “We can make this work, I’ll have Missandei translate it for the blacksmiths.” They stared at each other for a few seconds too long. Tyrion cleared his throat.

“Speaking of blacksmiths, Your Grace, there is someone I’d like to bring to this project.” Davos said from across the room. She looked over at him. “The only thing is, I’d need to go to King’s Landing in order to retrieve him.”

“Can you get in and out of King’s Landing?” Tyrion asked.

“I’m only decent at most things, Lord Tyrion, but at smugglin’, well, I’m more than decent there.” Davos responded.

“I’d like to go with Davos.” Jon said.

Daenerys turned and looked at him quickly with panic in her face. “What? Why?”

“I need to get an idea of the layout of the city if we’re going to lay siege and capture the city. Not just what I can get from maps, but also what I can see with my own eyes.” Jon explained. He was careful to leave Sansa’s spy ring out of the conversation. Eventually, the whole ring would work for all of them, but he didn’t want Tyrion and Varys knowing about it just yet. And if Tyrion knew, Varys was sure to find out. Tyrion he cautiously trusted, he seemed to be doing everything with Daenerys’s best interest in mind. Varys, however, was another case entirely. He seemed to always be aware of everything, quietly watching and waiting. He could see why the nickname ‘The Spider’ applied.

Daenerys and Tyrion exchanged a long look. “I don’t like it, Jon.” Daenerys said cautiously. “You’re not just a commander anymore, you are my heir, a prince, you’re valuable.”

Jon let out a long breath. “I appreciate that, but I am still the commander, and I’m one of the few that could go into the city and not be noticed. I’m Westerosi, I’ve never left the North, and I’ll have an excellent guide. I’ll be fine. Robb is too noticeable, he’s likely to run in to someone who has seen him before.”

“Famous last words.” Tyrion grumbled with an eyeroll.

Jon ignored him. “It should take us about a week round trip, we’ll be back with the blacksmith and valuable insight on the state of King’s Landing.”

“Fine.” Daenerys relented, “But just for the week. Will it just be the two of you?”

Jon nodded. “Yes, Robb will stay here with the men and Ghost. Davos and I will be faster if it’s just the two of us.”

“Fine.” Tyrion said, smirking. “That gives time for Daenerys and Robb to get to know one another.”

Jon froze. The implication was not lost on him. Daenerys would be looking for a husband, and Robb was one of the few lords that was available. The idea of Robb and Daenerys marrying made Jon sick to the stomach. Also the arrangement didn’t make much sense to him if she couldn’t have children. House Stark needed heirs as well. He turned slightly to look at his brother. Robb didn’t look any happier about the proposition either, to his relief. Jon nodded and turned away from them leaving the room behind before he could do something stupid, like kidnap her.

***

The next morning just before dawn, Davos and Jon loaded up in a small dinghy with one sail, it should take them about three days to reach King’s Landing, if the weather cooperated. Jon hadn’t slept well after Tyrion’s verbal gut punch the night before. He had constantly been running the situation over and over in his head. The idea that the woman he had been dreaming about for so long, the woman he wanted more than he’d ever wanted anyone was going to end up married to his charming older brother left his chest aching. Nothing had been said between the two, Robb had simply walked towards the dining hall instead of his bed, most likely searching out Arianne.

“You alright lad? You look a little green.” Davos said. “You weren’t seasick on the way here, but it can happen easier in these small boats.”

Jon shook his head. “It’s not the boat or the water. How did I get here Davos? One day I wake up from being dead, Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch and a few months later, I’m the Prince of Dragonstone, heir to the throne. I’m forced to watch as the woman that I have feelings for will go on to marry another, possibly even my brother. And Gods, why wasn’t I more careful to guard against her?”

“It’s hard to tell our hearts to not fight for what they feel is right.” Davos said painfully. “I saw you the moment you first saw her, and she you. The first meeting might have been tension-filled, but it was there from the first second. You both felt it, and we all saw it. I wouldn’t be surprised if this plan of Tyrion’s to keep you two apart was because he doesn’t want to lose his place with her.”

“I don’t know whether I should fight for it or not. A big part of me feels like I’ve been drawn to her, whether by Gods or destiny. But I also want her to fight for it. I need to know that she wants it just as much.” Jon said miserably.

Davos looked at him sympathetically, then hoisted the sail. “Well, you have a week to figure it out, Your Grace.”

It took them the better part of three days to make it from Dragonstone to King’s Landing. It was the biggest city Jon had ever seen and it was a sight. The Red Keep rose above the city at the top of the hill. The towers were tall and thin. It stood on the outcroppings of rocks as if it were about to fall into the sea below. And that sea was filled with Greyjoy ships. Obviously, Euron was still in King’s Landing. He saw the giant ship that he captained. The city sprawled out at its base moving inland. From their position on the water, they could see the Iron Gate, one of the seven openings into the city. He could hear the noise of the city, a half a million people lived inside those walls. Jon shuddered at the thought. He suddenly longed for the open spaces of the North. Davos maneuvered the boat into the river. They landed and pulled the boat onto the rocky shore. There was a narrow staircase leading up to the side gates. Jon and Davos stashed the boat close to the wall and climbed the stairs.

The first thing Jon noticed in King’s Landing was the smell. It smelled like shit. Everywhere. Flea Bottom was a mess of narrow streets and crooked alleyways. People were packed together tightly. The drains pouring down the street were filled with brown water. Jon felt helpless as he watched children run in and out of the crowd, and older people sitting by the side of the main passageway slowly knitting or stirring big pots. It was a pitiful way to live. He looked up through the buildings to see the Red Keep. How could anyone stand living there when right outside their doors was this? This is what they needed a new world for, this is why they needed to break the wheel as Daenerys had said. There was no way for him to comprehend it until he saw it, stood in it. He followed Davos down the street, keeping watch for any Lannister men as they went. “You won’t find ‘em down here. Maybe a few streets up.” Davos said. “The army men don’t come down here, it stinks too bad.”

“Perfect place to hatch a rebellion then, the one place the army won’t go.” Jon said. Davos nodded. “Aye, you’re probably right. The address Sansa gave us is just up the way a bit.”

They walked through the filthy city streets for a few more minutes before the city started to turn. The buildings got larger, the road widened out, and the smell was slowly dissipating. They stopped in front of a large building with curtains over the windows. The sounds and smells of sex wafted out the doorway. A woman stood there, her dress barely covering her body. “How can I help you?” She purred at them, licking her lips as she looked Jon up and down.

“Looking for your lady in charge, Clara.” Davos said kindly.

“I can do just as much as her.” The woman replied silkily.

“Thank you kindly, but we just need to speak to her.” Davos said and handed the woman several coins. Her face slipped, gratitude shown in her face and she nodded.

“Wait here, I’ll get her.” Her voice had gone from drawn out words to short and clipped, all business. She disappeared into the brothel.

Jon looked at Davos. “They’re just trying to survive, lad. Most of ‘em are decent women who ended up in a bad way. They have a job, and they get paid for it. They’re a lot more helpful if you pay them for something else. If you’re kind to them, they’ll be kind to you. It’s one of the things Stannis and I were at odds with. He thought they were the lowest of the low. But I know the truth. It’s just another way to put food on the table.”

Another woman walked out through the doorway. Jon thought she was probably quite beautiful at one point, but someone had taken a weapon to the woman. A long red streak cut across her collarbone and between her breasts. Her face had a strange appearance because her cheekbone had obviously been broken, and never healed right. That side of her face was almost completely caved in, her nose had obviously had similar treatment as well. “Can I help you?”

“Yes. Clara, I presume?” Davos said.

“Yes.” She said clipped. “What of it?”

“Do you work for Petyr Baelish?” Jon asked, impatient.

“This is his brothel. We all work for Littlefinger.” Clara said.

“Yes, but do you work for him in other ways?” Jon asked. At her skeptical face he added, “we’re looking for information on the Lannisters. Troop movements, working shifts, that sort of thing.”

“Who are you?” Clara asked. “You have a Northern accent.”

“My name is Jon, and Littlefinger right now is up in the North trying to seduce my sister into trying to steal the throne.” Jon said.

Clara’s eyes went wide. “That man can never have power. Do you understand me? None of us would be safe from the chaos he would inflict upon us to get whatever it is he wanted. Yes, I work for him. I used to work for him in the palace, as a spy. Now I just work here.”

“What happened?” Davos asked.

“Joffrey happened.” Clara shuddered. “He liked to hurt women, it’s what got him off. Baelish would protect us from him, until we did something he didn’t like. Then he’d throw us in, knowing we’d be lucky if we lived.”

“I hate Baelish, and we’re working to take him down, but we need to take out his network first.” Jon said. “I need your help. Can you supply us with information?”

“What do I get in return?” Clara asked.

“A different world.” Jon answered. “Daenerys Targaryen and I are going to take the throne and we’re going to change the world for the better. A world where you don’t have to suffer at the hands of a man like Joffrey.”

“Women will always be suffering at the hands of men like Joffrey.” Clara said.

“But we aren’t going to throw you to them.” Jon said. “We can’t protect everyone from all bad things ever, but we can provide a better place to try and live without fear.”

“They say she has three dragons, and vast armies.” Clara said reluctantly.

“She does.” Jon confirmed.

Clara watched him for a long moment and finally sighed. “A group of those Lannister cunts were in here last night and nearly killed one of my girls.” Clara said angrily. “Who do I send the information to?”

“Ser Davos Seaworth at Dragonstone.” Jon said nodding toward the older man. “He can be trusted.”

She nodded. “Fine. Do yourself a favor Jon, get your sister away from Littlefinger. Nothing good comes from being close to that man.”

Jon nodded back; jaw clenched.

“Well, that was interestin’.” Davos said. “Why me?”

“Robb doesn’t do deceit well and he’ll have to head back to Winterfell soon, Sam’s too naïve for it, Arya might understand it, but she needs action.” Jon said. “Of all my choices you were the best. Sansa will eventually do this part of it, but I can’t have the information sent to her while Baelish is still around.”

“And here I thought you were too straight laced for all of this.” Davos said chuckling.

“A few years ago, maybe, but I learned to fight dirty with the Free Folk.” Jon said.

Jon and Davos continued on in silence as they made their way to the Street of Steel. He let Davos lead his way through the masses. After walking amongst the blacksmiths for nearly half an hour, they finally stopped outside of a small forge. Jon could see the man working. Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn’t the man before him. The blacksmith was close to Jon’s age with hair cut short to his head. He had the heavy muscles of a working man and was covered in grime. That didn’t take away from his bright blue gaze. Jon stood back and to the side, admiring the blacksmith’s work as Davos approached him.

“Wasn’t sure I’d find you here.” Davos said. The blacksmith smiled at him, laughing slightly. “I’m glad my instincts were right to come to the Street of Steel.”

“Aren’t you worried about the goldcloaks?” The blacksmith asked.

“I haven’t been here in years. Why should they recognize me?” Davos said. “Sometimes I hardly do. Nothing fucks you harder than time.” They both nodded at each other. “Anybody give you any trouble?”

“No. Here I am arming Lannisters and they never get a second look.” The young man replied. “But you were right. The safest place for me was right under the queen’s nose.” Jon was confused, why would a young blacksmith have to hide from the queen?

“Don’t be so sure. Safety is never a permanent state of affairs. Bad things are coming.” Davos said.

“You came to get me.” The blacksmith replied. “You want me to come with you.”

Davos looked at him closely. “I don’t think you understand…”

“I’m ready, let’s go!” The young man interrupted, turning to look deeper into his forge.

“You should know what you’re heading into.” Davos said. “I’m representing the North, we’re in an alliance with the Dragon Queen, Daenerys Targaryen. We’re going back to Dragonstone. We need someone who is willing to try forging Valyrian steel. We found a way, but we need someone to do it.”

“Why Valyrian steel?” The man asked.

Jon stepped forward out of the shadows. “Because we need it to fight the dead north of the Wall.”

“Alright.” The man said.

“Just like that?” Davos asked incredulously.

The man shrugged. “After the red witch, there’s not much that shocks me.” The blacksmith stared at Davos for a long moment. “What do you think I’ve been thinking about with every swing of the hammer? How happy am I to make weapons for the family that killed my father? The family that tried to kill me? I’ve been getting ready. I never knew what for but that I’d know it when it comes.”

“You might want to bring one of those swords.” Davos gestured to the wall behind him.

“I don’t know much about swinging swords, but this…” He pulled out a giant Warhammer. “This I know.”

Jon looked at Davos, then at the blacksmith. “Who are you?” Jon asked.

“Who are you?” the man replied.

“Jon Targaryen of Houses Stark and Targaryen, Prince of Dragonstone.” It was the first time Jon had said it all and it sounded ridiculous.

“I’m Gendry Waters, the bastard son of Robert Baratheon.” Gendry answered firmly.

Jon looked at Davos who just sighed and shrugged. “I was raised as Jon Snow, Ned Stark’s bastard son. I saw your father once at Winterfell.”

“I met your father. He came to visit me in Flea Bottom.” Gendry said excitedly.

“You’re a lot leaner than your father, I wouldn’t have ever guessed.” Jon said, smirking.

“You look just like yours.” Gendry said back. The two stared at each other for a long moment. Then they both chuckled. “Our fathers trusted each other, so can we?”

“They were best friends. I grew up on stories of them. It’s strange now to think about but Robert Baratheon killed my birth father.” Jon looked down sadly. “My life is pretty fucked up right now.” He finally said laughing. Jon and Gendry watched each other for a long moment.

“Let’s get out of here before we draw any more attention.” Davos said.

Gendry and Jon followed Davos back through the streets of King’s Landing, talking all the way, about their fathers, about the road ahead, about the Great War yet to come. “Why do you need Valyrian steel, Your Grace?” Gendry asked, “you have a fine-looking blade right there.”

“Valyrian steel is one of the few things that can kill a White Walker, the more we have the better. We’re mining dragonglass as well, another weapon that can kill them.” Jon said simply as they came to the door that would lead them down the stairs and to the boat.

They were packing up, getting ready to leave when two Lannister men came down the beach. Davos tried to bribe them, and it almost worked, until they saw the wolf pommel on Jon’s sword. Gendry dispatched both men quickly with his hammer. “You’ll do, Gendry.” Jon said, patting the younger man on the shoulder.

The three of them loaded themselves onto the boat and set out for Dragonstone. Three days later they were met with the sight of the castle, and something else awe inspiring. Above the shores of the island, above the castle flew a giant black dragon. As they sailed closer, Jon could see the speck of silver hair on top of the dragon’s back. Daenerys was out with her dragon. Suddenly Jon couldn’t get to the island fast enough, wanting to see the miracle of dragons up close.


	12. Daenerys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daenerys has a private meeting with each of the Stark siblings remaining on Dragonstone. She questions the motives of her advisors and spends some quality time with the dragons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Wednesday! 
> 
> Enjoy the chapter and I'll see you on Sunday!
> 
> As always, thanks for all comments and kudos, they are so appreciated. 
> 
> Thanks to AbstractlySydney for your endless support and help. :)

It had been two days since Jon and Davos had left for King’s Landing. In that time, she hadn’t sought out Robb Stark once. Tyrion’s comment to them all had not gone unnoticed by her, nor by Jon if the angry look in his eye was anything to go by. Tyrion had spent hours that night with her trying to find a suitable husband. None of them were right. There were those who were the last of their family, and therefore needed a fertile wife. There were those that were of too little consequence, and then there were the age differences. After tediously looking at everyone, Tyrion had nearly given up when the Northerners burst in with their ridiculous plan. In that moment, looking up at his handsome face, Daenerys realized no man would ever compare to Jon.

Tyrion thought he knew everything, had thought of every contingency, but he didn’t understand magic. He was a man of reason and logic. Daenerys was a Targaryen, a dragon rider. She had seen her fair share of unexplainable things, and she knew when visions brought people to her. Jon had been brought to her, she had been dreaming of him for so long, she already had the color of his eyes memorized. People might think it was crazy that she was this attached to him so quickly, but she knew. She couldn’t explain how, she just did. At first, she thought she could give him up, but now, just two days into his absence, she knew this wasn’t going to work. She was done doing what everyone else wanted her to do. She was going to take what she wanted. 

She sat waiting for Missandei to finish her hair, preparing for another Jon-less day. “Your Grace, forgive me, but you seem to be rather melancholy today. Is there anything I can do for you?”

Daenerys took a deep breath. There was only one thing to be done. “Can you fetch Robb Stark for me please?”

Robb Stark was a handsome man, there was no question about that. His auburn curls and bright blue eyes were better suited to the Stark brown armor than his brother’s dark features were. He was no doubt with his easy grace that he was and always had been popular with women. This man was the heir to Winterfell, and was the natural leader in the North. According to her advisors the support of the northern houses had transferred to his younger cousin, and she wanted to gauge his feelings about it. Dany and Robb both looked at each other suspiciously over the table. Her Unsullied had insisted that he be disarmed before entering into a private audience with her. It was just the two of them in her solar. Her heart gave a sad pang as she realized the last time she was alone with a man in this room it was Jon.

“Your Grace,” Robb began hesitantly. “I appreciate you wanting to meet with me, but I do have to tell you, I have no intention of this becoming in any way romantic. You’re a beautiful woman, maybe the most beautiful I’ve ever seen, but I love and respect my brother too much for this to go anywhere.”

She let the silence stretch before them as she waited to respond. Robb started to fidget under her gaze. “Why do you still call him your brother if you know he’s your cousin and he’s claimed the relation to House Targaryen?”

“Jon will always be my brother.” Robb said strongly. “He’s a Stark, more than he’s a Targaryen.”

“We’ll see about that.” Daenerys said with her eyebrows raised and a smirk. “It’s interesting to me that you were the one pushing so hard for his claim, but seem uncomfortable with him being a Targaryen.”

Robb continued to squirm under her sharp gaze. “Jon has told me multiple times that he doesn’t want the throne.”

Daenerys’s eyebrows shot up. Suspicion crept in as she looked at the man across from her. “So you would force your brother into something he doesn’t want because of your ego?”

Robb’s face filled with color. “I don’t know if Jon truly doesn’t want the throne, or if he’s afraid to want it.” He looked up and must have seen a confused expression on her face because he continued, “Jon was raised the bastard son of a Lord. In Westeros, it is...unpopular to support a bastard’s claim on anything, and they’re constantly taught that nothing will be theirs to claim. I’d like to say that our family was kinder to him, but the truth is there were always those in our household that held his birth status against him, and let him know.” 

Daenerys stared at the man in front of her for a long time. “Jon will never sit on the Iron Throne, at least not alone. I am and will be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, even with an alliance met between our houses. I hope you understand that, Lord Stark.”

Robb looked belligerent, as if he was going to argue with her but seemed to change his mind before he opened his mouth. Instead, he nodded solemnly.

Daenerys continued. “I didn’t call you here to start a romance or even broker a marriage alliance. I need your opinion on a few things that a Westerosi king might be able to help me with.”

“I’m not a king.” Robb said. “I didn’t do that job very well, I’m afraid.” He sounded and looked dejected and chastised. 

“Lord Tyrion tells me that you gave the Lannisters quite a fight.” Daenerys smiled, offering a branch. “They called you the Young Wolf. That you captured his brother and had their men on the run.”

“For a time, Your Grace.” Robb said. “Honestly, it’s not on the battlefield that I lost. It was the decisions I made off of it that nearly got me killed. My mother had brokered a marriage alliance with the Freys on my behalf. I was to marry one of Walder Frey’s daughters in exchange for the use of his bridge to cross the river.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “A steep price, for a bridge. A marriage alliance to a king?”

“Yes, well whether that was my mother’s lack of negotiating skills or Walder Frey’s stubbornness, I’ll never know.” Robb looked around the room. “Do you have anything to drink? I’m going to need a drink if we continue down this story line.”

“I have wine on the sideboard there.” She pointed to the bottles on the table. He rolled his eyes but got up to serve himself. “Is there something wrong with wine, Lord Stark?”

“We prefer ale, all of us Northerners do. Jon was just whinging the other day about it. Wine is too sweet, not heavy enough.” Robb responded with a chuckle. She smiled at the thought of Jon complaining that there was no ale and only wine. He hadn’t said anything to her the night they dined together. Only just to tell her that it was the more common drink of the North.

“Anyway, back to my sad tale.” He said with a tight smile. “The truth of it is, I fell in love with a woman. She was nothing I had ever seen before; strong, independent, and honest. Talisa was the daughter of a nobleman in Volantis and had trained as a healer. She came to Westeros and I found her bandaging men on the battlefield, Starks and Lannisters. I let go of my duty and I married her. That was the beginning of my troubles, but not the root of them. My men lost faith in me, I relied too heavily on my advisors, and was reckless and impulsive. I lost, and I lost hard. I lost my mother, my wife, and my unborn child. They stabbed us all, multiple times. I barely survived, and only because my mother’s uncle pulled me out. I was in no condition to help anyone for a very long time. I was single handedly responsible for the near massacre of my men.” He took a deep breath. “It’s a shame I’ll always have to live with. Jon might have lost too, but he did so trying to save everyone, I lost trying to save myself and my family only.”

Daenerys looked at the man in front of her. He was handsome and clean, but rough. His hair was just a touch too long and so was his beard, his eyes never quite lit up all the way, and she hadn’t seen him smile yet. There seemed to be an air of sadness around him. But it was how he mentioned Jon that made her curious. “What do you mean, Jon lost?” Daenerys asked.

“You heard Davos in the great hall when you were exchanging accomplishments.” Robb smirked at that. “He gave his life for his people.”

Daenerys’s forehead creased and her eyes narrowed. “Figuratively. He’s given his life to protect his people, sworn to them.”

Robb took a long swig of wine and shook his head slowly. “Jon and I have very similar scars, Your Grace. Physical scars. As you may be familiar, change doesn’t happen peacefully most times. It’s the cost he bore to try and change things in the North.”

“He gave his life for his people.” Daenerys repeated whispering.

Robb nodded. “Aye. He’s the best and most honorable person I know. Anyone would be lucky to have him.”

Daenerys’s eyes shot up and met his. “You don’t agree with my decision?”

“Do you?” Robb asked. “You seem to move the conversation to him an awful lot.”

“He’s my heir, the Prince of Dragonstone, and the commander of my armies.” Daenerys said quickly. “It’s natural to want to know what type of man he is.”

“But you already know that don’t you?” Robb pressed. “Jon’s not complicated, and he doesn’t play games. The man you met is the man he is.”

“I have my reasons for agreeing with this strategy.” Daenerys said staunchly.

“I know.” Robb said simply, obviously having been informed by Jon. “But your advisors also have a reason for suggesting it in the first place.”

“What do you mean?” Daenerys asked.

Robb looked back at her shrewdly. “Is this something that is going to be used against me? I’m just letting you know my opinion.”

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want to know. Even though you lost your war, you still know this enemy, maybe better than any of us. And you know your brother.” Daenerys said.

Robb sighed. “Jon has the higher claim to the throne, and quite frankly I think he has the best temperament to rule. That’s not a mark against you, but from what I’ve heard about you, he seems to be able to control the fire a little bit better. In my opinion, he’ll always be seen as the true heir because he’s a man, unfortunately for you. Tyrion may be right that you can control the news a bit by stepping out in front of it, but it will always be there. The knowledge that there is another. I think Tyrion is hoping Jon will die, either in the battle for King’s Landing or in the Great War. He’s counting on it so that you have a clear path to leadership. You’re the queen, but he also gains power as your Hand.” Robb said seriously. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he put Jon in an extremely risky position. Notice he was more than okay with Jon going on this trip to King’s Landing which is dangerous. Varys on the other hand, he’ll back Jon. You should expect it from him. He’s always looking for the better candidate, never sticks too long to anyone.”

“Maybe your strategy is just to make me doubt my advisors.” Daenerys asked skeptically.

“Maybe you need new advisors.” Robb said, shrugging.

“Okay, tell me Robb Stark,” Daenerys began. “Right now, my Dothraki are on the plains of the Reach, near Highgarden, and my Unsullied have taken Casterly Rock. The Dornish and Reach armies are moving towards King’s Landing to begin a siege. Advise me on my current situation.”

Robb looked at Daenerys for a long time, so long she wasn’t sure if he was going to take the bait. Finally, he spoke. “The Unsullied never should have been sent to Casterly Rock. I don’t know why Tyrion did that. Nearly all of the Lannisters left are in King’s Landing, under the command of Jaime Lannister. Their armies have been fighting wars for years now. They’re most likely exhausted, all of them. Sansa tells me that the Lannisters have run out of gold, and at this point, the Tyrells are the richest family in Westeros. It’s good that your Dothraki are there. Cersei is likely to attack Highgarden, either for their wealth or food. I would send word ahead to prepare them for a possible attack andI would move your Unsullied to meet the Dornish and Reach men at King’s Landing, abandoning the Rock.”

“Why would Tyrion advise me to take my Unsullied to Casterly Rock if it was a strategic move?” She asked. “He said that using the native armies would be best at King’s Landing.”

“I don’t know why he would push for Casterly Rock, unless it’s just to gain his family home back. We all have some experience doing that. He probably thought you needed a force in the West, but the truth is, if you take King’s Landing, the Rock won’t matter. You have the ability to take the capital. And a siege is a siege, Your Grace.” Robb said. “It’s going to be unpleasant no matter the army. It would be in your best interest to end a siege as soon as possible.”

“How?” She asked.

“You have dragons, don’t you?” Robb responded.

“I don’t want to burn cities.” Daenerys replied.

Robb nodded his head. “That’s admirable, but you don’t need to burn the whole city. Just the right spots to show her you mean business. Cersei Lannister is ruthless. She’ll use anyone as a shield. All of the people in King’s Landing are just pawns.”

“What parts of the city?” She pressed.

“The harbor for sure. You need to get rid of Euron anyway, and it sends a powerful message.” Robb said. “Then blast open a gate or two, and Maegor’s Holdfast in the Keep. That should do it. If she doesn’t surrender to you, the people will.”

“Will you help me with King’s Landing?” Daenerys asked him seriously.

“No. My place is back in the North. When the men are done mining the dragonglass, I’m going with them. Now that I know you won’t burn my brother alive.” Robb said with a smirk. “Jon will likely advise you the same way I did, we were both taught battle strategy together. Even though it has always been more my strength. No doubt he’ll tell you to move the Unsullied for sure. That was such a bizarre move.”

“Tyrion proposed it to Lady Olenna and Princess Arianne as a way to compensate for them sending their armies to King’s Landing. Both are here more for revenge on Cersei than loyalty to me.” Daenerys confessed.

Robb’s eyebrow shot up. “Then you better start building that loyalty, Your Grace.” Robb said seriously. “Trust me, you won’t get very far with bannermen who only have their own interests in mind. If they’ve allied with you, they need to follow your directives. And not just Tyrion’s either. Your people here love and respect you, but you’re going to need the love and respect of the Westerosi if you want to rule them.”

“Thank you, Robb Stark.” Daenerys said with a smile. “This has been most informative.”

“If I can say one more thing, Your Grace.” Robb said. She nodded at him. “Naming Jon your heir and Prince of Dragonstone is only going to help you so much. You need to trust him, maybe even more than your advisors. If you leave any crack at all the great families of Westeros will come for you both. Spend some time with him when he gets back, build a relationship, a friendship. You’ll find he’s an excellent companion, if a bit broody at times.”

She smiled and nodded to him. The thing was, she wanted much more from Jon than his friendship. But Robb had a point, if he was going to be a part of House Targaryen, then there actually needed to be a House Targaryen. Getting to know him and building trust wouldn’t hurt. She also wanted to know Jon’s opinion on the war front. Robb had some interesting ideas about their current predicament.

***

It was the fourth day of Jon being gone, and she was restless. She hadn’t spent much time with Tyrion or Varys, but instead Jorah and Missandei became her constant companions. She took the time to ask Jorah what he thought of Robb Stark’s input and he cautiously agreed with him. He’d been hesitant to directly go against Tyrion’s advice, but also questioned some of the decisions made by her Hand. Daenerys wanted to run everything by Jon when he got back but she was pretty convinced that she needed to march the Unsullied to King’s Landing, and soon.

They had spent a lot of time in her solar the last few days, taking most meals there. This evening, Missandei was working on translating the book Sam had brought regarding Valyrian steel, and Dany was, well she was moping about Jon. After her third sigh of the evening, Missandei practically growled at her to go eat in the dining hall and leave her alone. She huffed and moved toward the door. “Do you want to come with me?” She asked Missandei. Missy looked up and gave her a glare and a firm shake of her head. She had really come into her own, Dany mused. The young girl who was quiet and cautious had slowly disappeared leaving a strong-willed young woman instead. Dany stepped out into the passageway and found Jorah guarding her door, as he did most nights. He stepped in time with her and they made their way down to the dining hall.

When the Northmen had originally come to Dragonstone, they were very closed off, a quiet bunch. The sight she saw now brought a smile to her face. Where before all of the different factions of her alliance had spread out across the table, far from each other, they were now mixed thoroughly. The thick padded armor of the Northerners, the golden robes of the Dornish, the rough, salty breastplates of the Iron Born, the furs of the Dothraki, and the rigid poses of the Unsullied all sat shoulder to shoulder. They were loud and raucous. A long day of mining for the Northmen had obviously left them needing to unwind. She spotted Theon Greyjoy looking miserable as always sitting at the edge of his group. Yara’s capture had taken a heavy toll on the already troubled young man. He always sat as far away from the Northerners as possible. Robb and Arianne were sitting close together, laughing and staring into each other’s eyes. She remembered the anger she had felt seeing the Dornish Princess all over Jon a few nights ago and was grateful she had moved on.

She ate her meal at the table next to Robb and Arianne sitting amongst her Dothraki as they told their traditional stories. They spoke of their ancient origins and the Great Stallion, their horse god. That reminded her of Jon’s Old Gods, the ones in the trees. She turned to Jorah. “I’m going for a walk in Aegon’s Gardens.”

He nodded. “I’ll come with you.” She shook her head. “You don’t need to, you can see it from here and hear me if I yell, all the openings are clear.” He nodded again, reluctantly.

She took a deep breath as she walked through the open archway into the garden. Dragonstone was frequently misty and cool, but always seemed to smell of fire and brimstone. She walked further into the garden, hoping to find the tree that Jon had described. It would be nice for him if they had one here, since this would eventually be his seat and home. She saw red off to the left side and picked her way through the overgrown plants. She needed a gardener in her to tend it. Once she broke through the large bushes she gasped. There, standing in the northern part of the garden was a large tree with a dazzling white trunk and rich red leaves. She didn’t see a face carved in it, so she started to make her way around thinking she’d find it on the other side. What she found instead was the thin, smirking soldier that had interrupted her and Jon in the cave days ago.

The soldier looked up at her as she came around the tree. He smiled mischievously. “Found our Gods, did you?” He asked.

She nodded. “Jon told me about them, so I came to see if the tree stood here.”

“Jon Targaryen, you mean?” The soldier asked curiously. “Isn’t that what you want people to call him?”

“You don’t approve of your liege lord’s place in my House?” She asked the soldier coldly. She had noticed that the soldier had not referred to her as ‘Your Grace’ or knelt to her. “Who are you?” She asked the man.

“I’m a random soldier who interrupted you in a cave. I’m the young girl who has been bringing the meals to your solar. I am no one.” The man said calmly.

Daenerys’s heart began to pound, and she glanced back to the hall. She had lived in Essos most of her life and was well acquainted with legends. She had heard the whispers all her life, of the Faceless Men. “What do you want with me? If you wanted me dead, I’d already be.”

“True.” The man replied. “I don’t want you dead, in fact I’m rather impressed. I was hoping I’d get to see your dragons.” The soldier paused and looked curiously at the sky as if expecting her sons to make an appearance. “Really I’m just here to protect my family.”

“The Faceless Men don’t have families, it’s one of the things that makes them so dangerous.” Daenerys said.

“I’m not a Faceless Man. I was trained by them, but I couldn’t let go of who I was.” The man said.

“And who is that?” Daenerys whispered. She had seen many things in her life, many awful things, but few times where she was truly afraid. Not since she had obtained her armies. But here she was alone, with an assassin.

The man reached down to his chin and stretched his skin grotesquely before pulling off his face. Beneath the mask was a young woman. Her body transformed and showed curves even though her figure was small and lithe. Her hair was pulled back from her face and formed a bun on the back, similar to the way Jon wore his. Also similar to Jon was the color of the young woman’s eyes. Steel gray. “I’m Arya Stark, Your Grace.” She bent her head at Daenerys. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet face to face.”

Daenerys just stood looking at her for a long moment. “Do your brothers know?”

Arya shrugged. “Of course. They were just as freaked out the first time too. Sansa’s reaction was hilarious!” The young woman chuckled.

Dany didn’t know whether to laugh or scream. “So you’re not here to kill me?”

“Not unless you intend to kill my family.” Arya said seriously. “But based on your recent activities with Jon, I don’t think that’s your plan.” Arya smiled deviously. “I stayed in disguise because Starks generally don’t fare well in the south. Everyone was worried about Jon’s safety. You still could decide to get rid of a challenger’s claim to the throne.”

“It’s not my intention to kill your brother, either of them.” Dany said simply. “What made you reveal yourself to me?”

“I need to warn you.” Arya said, becoming even more serious. “I’ve been working quietly here, keeping an eye on things, and there are some troubling developments.”

“Why not just tell Robb?” Asked Dany.

“I like you.” Arya shrugged. “You seem to know what you want and you’re okay with the means it will take to get you to your goals. Jon seems to trust you, even though he’s keeping his distance. He’d want me to protect you if I could. I’d tell him all of this, but he’s not here.”

Daenerys looked at her shrewdly. “I’ve been hearing a lot about trust from the Starks today, why should I trust your family? They helped the usurper kill and banish my family, and now you’re trying to put your brother on the throne over me.”

Arya shook her head. “I don’t care about the throne or titles. Well, I care because those are the people who make decisions, but honestly I’d be fine following either of you. My brothers are focused on the threats to the North and it nearly blinds them to all else. Jon wants to defeat the Army of the Dead, and Robb, well I think Robb just wants to go back to the way things were before we all left Winterfell. We’re just as weary of you as you are of us, but we have a common enemy now. The Lannisters want all of us dead and gone. They killed my parents, and they’re responsible for the events that killed my baby brother. And Jon is a dragon, and he’s the best man I know so you must not be that bad.”

“You speak of Jon as if he’s some great moral compass.” Daenerys said, rolling her eyes.

Arya shrugged. “He is.” She said simply and sighed. “Jon has father’s honor. It’s not corroded by his ego. He tries to be as honest as possible, to a fault most times. But he’s had enough life experiences to know when to deceive. He believes in duty above all else, and he sees beyond what other people can. He sees what makes up someone’s character. Maybe it’s the wolf in him, but Jon can look at a person and immediately know whether they’re worth it or not. Jon’s the best of us all, and if he’s choosing you, then we’ll stand by him.”

“But you’d back him for the throne if it came to it, over me.” Dany said.

“Yes. Without a doubt.” Arya said quickly. “But it won’t come to that, unless you’re not who you say you are.”

Daenerys huffed out an impatient breath. “Your whole family is infuriating. You’ll support me as long as I live up to some measure of character you live by? Have you all forgotten who you’re talking to? Who’s home you’re in? I am the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, and I will make whatever decisions I deem necessary to take my throne and protect my people.” Daenerys was tired of the impertinence of the Starks, as if they were simply letting her be Queen. 

Arya looked at her for a long moment, a smile growing on her face. “I apologize, Your Grace. You’re completely right. You are the ruler here.”

Daenerys eyed her suspiciously. “Why do I feel like I’ve just been goaded into that reaction?”

Arya shrugged. “I understand your men are in a holding pattern right now, but I think you need to remember exactly who’s conquest this is. Welcome to the game, Daenerys Targaryen.” The younger woman looked absolutely gleeful standing before her in the moonlight.

“What is this warning you have for me, Arya?” Daenerys asked impatiently. Arya looked around her, carefully studying their place from every angle.

“The Iron Born are preparing to leave. They’re unhappy with Theon’s leadership, big surprise there, and are about to abandon him. That will leave you without the majority of your fleet here. You either need to inspire Theon to get moving or make an alliance with one of the captains.” Arya said, her voice low. “But that shouldn’t be much of a surprise really. The big news is Varys. He’s been exchanging ravens with someone in Essos, Pentos, I think. I haven’t been able to snag one yet, but I will. He has several kids in the kitchens working for him, so be careful of your food.”

“You think whoever he’s corresponding with is a threat to me?” Dany asked.

“I can’t tell that for sure, because I haven’t seen the ravens, but I also know he’s exchanging words with Littlefinger.” Arya said, pacing around in front of the tree, as if she were still fitting the pieces together in her mind.

“Petyr Baelish? Isn’t he at Winterfell?” Dany asked.

“Yes.” Arya rolled her eyes. “And he’s bad news. Anyone who corresponds with Petyr Baelish should be suspect. I think there’s a good chance Varys has told him about your dragons.”

“What about my dragons?” Daenerys asked angrily.

Arya stopped moving and looked directly at Daenerys. “The fact that they’re out of commission.” Arya said, willing Dany to disagree with her. When she didn’t, Arya continued. “Without those dragons, you are a walking target. You may have large armies, but you’ve lost your firepower. People are starting to notice.”

Daenerys looked defiantly at Arya for a long moment before relenting, she had no intention of sharing the status of her sons’ health with her. Drogon and Viserion had fully recovered from the dragon horn, but Rhaegal took the brunt of the attack and was still crazed. His brothers had been staying with him in the cave in order to keep him from escaping and flying rampant along the countryside.

“Is it something they can recover from?” Arya asked sympathetically. Daenerys continued to look at the younger woman, refusing to give her any information on her dragons. “I ask because you’re going to be crippled forever if you don’t have dragons. And this is coming from someone who has more respect for those creatures than most. Jon and I used to play at being Targaryens with their dragons. He was always Daeron, planning campaigns and battles.”

That made Dany smile, she could see the parallels with Daeron. Jon was an esteemed warrior and commander, a young Targaryen in his prime. She only hoped his story ended with a long life compared to the former. She sobered as she thought of her sons. “Would riding Drogon outside for a while change these sentiments?” She asked Arya.

Arya shrugged. “Can’t hurt, can it? But maybe I’m just anxious to see them.” She finally smiled genuinely.

Daenerys and Arya stood for a long time in the shadow of the weirwood tree, both lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Dany looked up at her again. “Will you stay in your faces, or come forward?”

“For now, I think I’m of better service to you and my brother if I stay anonymous. But I’ll stay close, and you know what faces to look for now. I’ll keep testing your food too.” Arya said with a soft smile.

“Wait? You’ve been testing my food?” Daenerys asked, shocked.

“I told you, Varys has people in the kitchens.” Arya said.

Daenerys shuddered hard. She’d have to be more careful. “Thank you, Arya.” Arya smiled at her. 

“Your Grace!” Jorah’s voice echoed throughout the garden. She turned toward his voice and reassured him. “I’m here Ser Jorah.” She turned to tell Arya to leave, but when she looked the assassin was gone, nowhere to be seen. Daenerys shivered in the evening air and returned to her trusted guard.

***

Dany was becoming paranoid after meeting with Arya. The morning after their encounter in Aegon’s Garden, she waited anxiously for her morning meal. The young woman who brought it was taller and had far more curves than Arya naturally had, but when she looked at Daenerys and met her eye with a wink, she knew it was her. She was impressed with the younger woman. How could she not be? But she was terrifying. Now that she knew for sure that Varys was definitely up to something, she was more careful about what was spoken about around him. If Tyrion, Jorah, or Missandei noticed, they didn’t say anything. She also started questioning Tyrion more. She was pretty sure she was driving him mad, but she couldn’t shake the warnings of both Stark siblings. It appeared to her that where Varys was malicious in his intent, Tyrion was apathetic. He didn’t care if something happened to others around him. That was a scary characteristic in her Hand, especially because that was the opposite of the type of ruler she wanted to be.

She became acutely aware that she had been rather oblivious to the machinations around her for the last few weeks. Her conversations with the Stark siblings had changed her point of view on everything. While they were in a holding pattern waiting for the armies to assemble, her advisors had forced her to focus almost solely on the Starks and her alliance with them. There were other problems to attend to, like what to do with the Unsullied and how to take King’s Landing. It was time for her to establish who the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms was and would be going forward.

On the morning of the day Jon was supposed to return from King’s Landing, she had a strategy meeting with Tyrion at the painted table. “I feel that it’s time to move the Unsullied. They’ve been at Casterly Rock for too long.” Daenerys said.

“Your Grace, the Unsullied are your hold in the Westerlands. If they leave, you’ll have no foothold in that kingdom.” Tyrion said, shocked that she would question him. Jorah stood silently watching the byplay between the two.

“Why do I need the Westerlands right now?” Daenerys asked. “I need King’s Landing, and arguably the Reach because it provides food. But I don’t need Casterly Rock. We offered it up to appease Olenna and Arianne but I’m pretty sure both would rather have help for their armies than the Lannister stronghold.”

“That’s just it. It’s the Lannister stronghold.” Tyrion said. “If we have it, they can’t run back there.”

“How are they going to run back there? My armies are between theirs and Casterly Rock, and if they sail around Westeros, they open themselves up to an attack on the water.” Daenerys said insistently. She took a deep breath and looked at him sympathetically. “I know how important family holdfasts are. We’re standing in mine, but we can always claim it after the war is won.”

Tyrion looked at her harshly. “It’s a strategic stronghold.”

But she stood her ground. “Not anymore. We should have moved on when Greyworm reported that there were barely any men there, which tells me that the army is somewhere else. Cersei and Jaime have abandoned the Rock, at least for now, and that makes it unnecessary. But do you know what is necessary? To have all my men to King’s Landing when the time is right. Give the order to start the march.”

Tyrion looked at her belligerently.

“That is an order from your queen, Lord Hand.” Daenerys said, anger growing. He finally relented and nodded his head.

She was furious. The Starks were right. He had taken Casterly Rock for his own gain, not for her strategies. She needed a release, or she was going to burn down everything around her. She looked to Missandei. “We’re going to the hot springs, and Missandei is going to tell me everything she found in that Valyrian book.” She turned back to Tyrion and pointed at him. “Don’t come looking for us.”

***

She relaxed back into the water as Missandei sat on the edge with just her feet in. She said she had felt uncomfortable with the Northmen mining dragonglass in the caves. You couldn’t even hear them from this part of the network of caves and the dragons would never let them close enough, but she didn’t say anything to Missy.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong, Your Grace?” Missy asked softly.

“What do you mean?” Dany groaned back at her friend.

“You practically melted Tyrion with your gaze today, and you’ve been avoiding Varys.” Missy pointed out. “Do you not trust us anymore?”

“I trust you. I trust the Unsullied, and the Dothraki. I trust Jorah.” Dany sighed. “When I spoke with Robb Stark, he gave me advice about watching my back and questioning my advisors. Unfortunately, I’ve found his advice to be very astute. Then there’s Arya Stark.”

“Arya Stark? Their sister?” Missandei said, obviously racking her brain for information.

“She’s here, on Dragonstone.” Daenerys said ominously. “She’s a Faceless Man. You know the ones from Braavos who can wear different faces.”

Missandei shivered. “The assassins?”

“Yes.” Dany answered. “She gave me similar warnings as her brother, and she’s been sneaking around collecting actual information.” Dany didn’t add that Arya had been testing her food, that would just worry Missandei more. 

“It was all valid advice and information, but what if what they’re trying to do is sow dissent amongst us?” She sighed loudly. “I feel paranoid. Anyway, I’m going to ask Jon about it when he’s back and see what he thinks, before he has a chance to speak to his siblings, but I’ve already started reevaluating the positions of the armies. I may want his opinion, but it’s my decision to make.”

“Ah yes. He should be back today right?” Missandei asked. “Is that the reason for the dip in here?”

Dany grinned at her. “No. Tell me about the book.” She said chuckling softly.

“It’s definitely a reference to Valyrian steel. There are specific directions, but I think you’d need to be a blacksmith to actually understand them, even in common. I hope this man Davos brings back can read.” Missandei said thoughtfully. “There are other things in the book as well. Dragon hatching, dragon horns, and architecture. I don’t know how this book got to the Citadel, but it’s basically an instruction manual for all things Valyrian.”

“Well, I’ve already hatched my dragons, and I don’t need to know anything about dragon horns except how to destroy one. I don’t plan on building anything. So it looks like the part you’ve translated is the part we need the most.” Daenerys commented. “We should keep it for future reference though.” Missandei nodded her agreement.

They lounged around for about another hour before Daenerys was ready to get out. She dried off and got dressed when she heard a rumble from her sons. Out of the darkness came Drogon’s huge head. His eyes were clear, and his manner calm. It did her heart well to see him recovered. Viserion came next, his ivory scales glinting in the torch light. He too had recovered well. She could feel both of them firmly connected to her in her mind. Then there was a crazed snarl from the back of the cave. She sighed. Rhaegal had not improved and Viserion moved back toward his brother to keep him penned in. She tried to connect with the green dragon, but her connection seemed to be frayed. She still felt him, but not nearly as strongly as before. She tried not to let sorrow consume her. Drogon came closer to her. She remembered what Arya had told her that night about the dragons needing to be seen. “Would you like to fly, my love?” She asked Drogon. He turned his head and extended his neck in invitation. She looked around wearily, not sure how he was going to get them to the sky.

Missandei also sounded concerned when she addressed her. “Your Grace, I don’t think…”

Daenerys smiled. “I’ll be fine, Drogon will take care of me.”

She climbed up her large son and settled in her normal place but flattened herself as much as possible against him. Drogon turned and started crawling into the back of the cave. They moved this direction for some time and Daenerys started sweating from anxiety and the heat of the rock around her. It was pitch black, not a speck of light and at certain times, she was pressed so close to the rock, she thought she would suffocate. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Drogon started moving on an obvious incline. The oppressive air started turning cooler and she could see the light of day. She could hear the sound of the sea echoing down the chamber. It was deafening until they came to the edge of the cave. The air smelled heavily of salt and fish. The opening was on the western side of the island, facing the mainland and was directly over the ocean. Drogon leapt out of the cave entrance, his wings extended and flew into the moist air.

She hadn’t been in the air since that terrible night of Euron’s attack. All of the sudden all the tension of the last few weeks, all of the confusion and paranoia left her. When she was on dragonback it was like everything else dissolved into the air below her. They wheeled through the air and soared above Dragonstone, giving her the first look of the entirety of her home. They flew over the heat of the volcano on the island and from their height she could see the twin volcano on Driftmark, far in the distance. The temptation to fly away and not return was strong. She didn’t know how long they stayed up in the air. Drogon took several passes at the sea and gorged himself on fish. They flew along the edge of Westeros, she could see Rook’s Rest, Lord Staunton’s home and see the smallfolk running to see Drogon in flight. After what felt like hours, they finally turned back to Dragonstone. She knew she would be sore after such a long flight, but she didn’t care. All of her worries had disappeared, and her mood was drastically improved.

As they flew over Dragonstone, preparing to land, she spotted the small boat on the beach. Davos and a young man were walking towards the castle while looking up at her in awe. Her heart nearly stopped when she didn’t see Jon. Then Drogon sharply turned towards the plains above the beach and she saw a welcoming sight, a look on his face of pure amazement. Drogon landed just in front of him, and she watched as her son moved toward the only other Targaryen. He moved close to Jon and she couldn’t see him from her point of view. She sent him a sharp command not to harm the man. Drogon moved his head just as she saw Jon reach to touch her son’s cheek. She got down off Drogon and went to greet Jon as the dragon returned to the sky. Jon was looking up with a huge smile on his face. He had never been more attractive, and she felt the crazy desire to kiss him senseless.

There was movement and sound behind Jon, a crazed screaming. She looked on in horror as Rhaegal crawled over the edge of the cliff toward them. He had gotten away from Viserion. She suddenly heard her third son and watched as he zoomed above them to join Drogon, maybe to retrieve him to help reign in their brother. Rhaegal’s eyes were unfocused and unseeing, he was bleeding from several wounds, and he was dirty with all his writhing around in the cave. He made a straight line for them. No, for Jon. His mouth opened as his nostrils widened. He pressed close to Jon and opened his mouth. Daenerys might have screamed, thinking she was about to see Jon burned alive when Rhaegal blew warm air all over Jon. Daenerys paused, shocked for a moment. Tears came to her eyes as she watched the interaction. Jon turned and looked at her, confused.

“They do that to scent mark. Like a dog pisses on things.” Daenerys chuckled. “He’s claiming you.”

“Claiming me…” Jon whispered. Rhaegal turned his head then, his eyes clearing and focusing on Jon. Jon turned to her. “I can feel him, in my mind, like Ghost. I’ve been feeling him since I got here, but now that he’s here in front of me, I know it’s him!” He sounded like an excited boy. “It’s not the same, the connection is much weaker than what I feel with my wolf, but it definitely exists.”

She smiled as she watched sanity become restored to her green son. His bond with Jon began to form and the thrall of the dragon horn was waning. Jon looked at Rhaegal in wonder and with a large amount of trepidation. She almost laughed at the cautious look on his face. He turned at her silent chuckles. “Should I be afraid of him?” he asked.

Dany looked up at Rhaegal, the warm presence of his mind growing in hers. “I don’t think so, it seems as though he needed a full connection with his own Targaryen to pull him out of the horn’s thrall. He will always be my son, but where I’m primarily bonded to Drogon, it seems that Rhaegal has chosen you. Fitting, since he’s named after your father.”

Jon continued to stare at the large dragon before him as his brothers landed behind Daenerys. He gulped obviously and then smiled at her. “A queen with silver hair and violet eyes, commanding conquering armies and three dragons. Has there been a truer Targaryen than you since Aegon himself?”

Dany could do nothing but smile happily and blush in response to his question.


	13. Jon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Daenerys spend time together on Dragonstone. Jon continues to cement his bond with Rhaegal. Final plans are made as the Targaryen alliance prepares for war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> Happy Sunday lovely readers!
> 
> This is a long one, and I hope you enjoy it. Things really start to move after this chapter, so I hope you're ready for a ride!
> 
> As always, thanks to AbstractlySydney for all your hard work as my beta. :)

Jon stood with Daenerys on the plains below the castle and watched in wonder as Rhaegal turned and propelled himself into the sky to join his brothers. He could see the gashes on his side and asked Daenerys, “Was he injured?”

Daenerys sighed deeply. “We were attacked on the way to Dragonstone by Euron Greyjoy.” She began as she started moving toward the castle. Jon nodded. He knew the fleet had been attacked. “He has a dragon horn.” He looked at her, confused. She looked at him with impatience. “They’re relics that were created in Valyria. They used to use them to control dragons, that’s how they would train them. But the side effects are horrible. These horns, they’ve been known to kill people and to destroy whole areas. The dragons and I were up in the sky when he had one of his crew members blow the horn.” She shuddered, obviously reliving the terrible event. “The sound was horrible, devastating. Both Drogon and Viserion were affected, but Rhaegal took the brunt of the weapon. I fell from Drogon and Viserion caught me, but I was pretty out of it. Rhaegal burned some of our own ships before his brothers corralled him in. We didn’t know where they’d gone, my bond was limited, until I found them in the caves.”

Jon took a deep breath. “Your Grace, you’ve been creating alliances and trying to wage war not knowing if your biggest weapon was even still available?” He asked incredulously.

“I knew they would recover. It just took time.” Daenerys said sharply. She shrugged, “It’s one of the reasons we’ve been slow to enter into conflicts with Cersei.”

“Forgive me, but you’ve gotten damn lucky that they’ve apparently recovered.” Jon said harshly.

“Lucky? What do you know about dragons? You’ve just met your first one. I gave them life, I have raised them, I have flown them over battlefields and burned my enemies. I know what they are capable of and they follow my command.” Daenerys said and the dragons roared in the air above them. He could see the fire light in her eyes. What was it about them that sparked their heat so quickly? Was it the Targaryen blood they shared? “I know that most of my new allies are allies because of my dragons. I know their value. I also am connected to them. I knew Drogon and Viserion would recover, I just didn’t know about Rhaegal.”

Jon huffed. “Have you considered flying with them? People need to see them, or they’ll start suggesting something is wrong.”

“They already have, according to your sister.” Daenerys said angrily.

Jon froze, stopped fully, and turned to her as Davos and Gendry slowly approached. “My sister?” he asked her carefully.

“Yes, your sister, Arya.” Dany said staunchly, her eyebrows rising. Jon heard a gasp behind him but didn’t turn. “Your sister who has been traipsing around my castle wearing other people’s faces! How exactly am I supposed to trust your family if you have them spying on me?”

He could feel himself go white. He ignored the question about trust, because she was right. Arya had revealed herself to Daenerys, and that could only mean that she trusted her. “What did she have to say?”

“She was telling me to be careful, warning me about my advisors.” Daenerys said, anger slowly evaporating. “Robb gave me a similar warning when I spoke with him privately.”

That kindled his own anger. “Oh, so spending time with Robb on your own? Based on Tyrion’s suggestion?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Davos leading Gendry away from them and back to the castle. Obviously trying to stay out of the way of the screaming Targaryens. “And just how was your private audience with my brother? Did you find his company pleasant? When’s the wedding?” Jon knew he should stop, he could see they were both getting out of control, but something about her just pushed him over the edge.

“There is no wedding!” Dany screamed back at him. “I don’t want Robb!”

“What do you want?” He shouted back, standing nearly nose to nose with her.

“Something I apparently can’t have.” She said angrily in a low volume. They stood there staring at each other, breaths pumping harshly in and out of their lungs. It was Daenerys who broke first, her eyes falling from his and taking a deep breath. They stood in silence for long moments. Jon wanted to reach out to her, but was afraid to close the gap between them. Daenerys looked up to the sky, watching her sons circle above them. “Maybe in a few days we can see if Rhaegal will let you ride him. It would be best if we had another dragon rider.”

“You think he’d let me?” He asked, the anger dissipating as he moved back from her and watched the dragons circle in the air above them.

She shrugged. “Probably. If I asked him to.” Jon could tell she was putting her walls back up. Sadness had leached into her eyes, turning them a deeper purple. There was a huge part of him that wanted to pull her to him, kiss her, and forget about the rest of the world. But he knew if he did that, he’d only be setting himself up for more pain in the future. “I also would like your opinion on the armies. That’s what Robb counseled me on, and I’ve been waiting for you to see what you’d say.” She turned to look at him. “To be clear, I will be making all final decisions on what is to be done with my men. However, I would appreciate it if we had the same plan.”

Jon’s heart ached. This is how it was going to be, both of them working together to achieve this massive goal, with him relegated to the sidelines as soon as possible. He understood. The war in the south was her domain, but it did hurt to see that she was already discounting him. Jon nodded to her. “Of course, they’re your armies. I’m still getting used to how they fight.” She seemed somewhat appeased by his answer as she let out a breath. “Davos found his blacksmith.” He reported. “Turns out he’s Robert Baratheon’s bastard son.”

“What?!” Suddenly all of that fire was back in her eyes. “Jon! We can’t allow a Baratheon to be working in our forges!”

“He’s not a Baratheon, he’s a Waters.” Jon said back. “Davos trusts him, and that works for me.”

Daenerys rolled her eyes at him. “Jon, you’re the heir to Dragonstone now, there are people out there who will seek to harm you.”

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing I’ve got my crazy sister around here to keep an eye on things.” Jon said, grinning at her. “How badly did she scare you?”

She looked up at him. “Not too badly.” She paused for a long moment as they walked back into the keep. He nudged her with his shoulder. “Okay, she scared me to death!”

He laughed out loud at that, the tension breaking between them. “She scares the shit out of everyone, to be honest. Anything else happen while I was away?” She recounted her conversation with Robb and her evening meals with everyone. Jon nodded in the appropriate places when she spoke about the relationships forming on the island.

“But tell me about King’s Landing.” She said. “I’ve never been there.” At some point Jorah had shown up and was following behind them.

“It stinks. Pretty horribly actually.” Jon started. “I think there’s literal shit running down the streets.”

“There is, Your Grace.” Jorah piped in. “The drains from the Red Keep run right into Flea Bottom.”

Daenerys stopped, looking at them both with outrage in her eyes. “What? That’s terrible!”

Jon nodded. “It really is, I don’t know how they live there, but I guess if it’s all you’ve ever known...”

“Well, we’re going to fix it. When I take King’s Landing, we’re going to clean up the whole city!” She sounded so determined that Jon smiled. 

He turned to Jorah. “Does she always do this?”

“What, take on an impossible problem and work to fix it no matter what?” Jorah asked, amused. “It’s kind of her thing. She fixes it too. So prepare yourself, if that’s what she wants, it’s what she gets.”

Jon chuckled. “I believe you Ser Jorah.”

Jon continued to tell Daenerys about King’s Landing as they followed the small but determined woman into the chamber of the painted table. On the way, they ran into Qhono who joined them in their task. Tyrion was nowhere to be seen; Jon noticed relieved. Daenerys moved towards the western side of the table and indicated her Unsullied. Their marker was no longer at Casterly Rock, but was set between it and King’s Landing, indicating they were on the move. Qhono nodded as he looked at the table, specifically the markers indicating the Dothraki in the Reach.

“The biggest problem Robb could find with our strategy was the Unsullied.” Daenerys started. “We sent them to Casterly Rock, and Greyworm, my commander, sent back word that not only had it been taken, but done so easily.”

Jon nodded. “Most of the Lannisters are in the capital. The city was crawling with them when I was there. Cersei and Jaime are the last branch of the family, and they need their armies to keep power in King’s Landing. They wouldn’t have left much at Casterly Rock. Also, they wouldn’t be able to retreat there very easily, they’d have to cross most of Westeros, and neither one of them are popular. I’d be surprised if they received any kind of help in crossing the countryside. They rule by fear and I would suspect that most of the people in Westeros would avoid them.”

“So, you wouldn’t have sent the Unsullied there at all.” Daenerys reasoned.

“Not necessarily. It does make sense to have your forces come in from the west, but I definitely wouldn’t have left them there this long.” Jon responded. “Also, if they’ve abandoned Casterly Rock, they’ve got another target in mind.”

Daenerys looked up at him seriously. “Where?”

They all stood staring down at the table for a long moment. It was Qhono who answered her. “Khaleesi, the men would go where the food is. Next to gold, food is most important.”

Jon nodded. “The Reach.”

“Robb came to a similar conclusion, why wouldn’t Tyrion?” She asked.

Jon just shrugged. “Tyrion’s an intelligent man, but he’s not a military commander.” Qhono nodded in agreement. “Also, there’s value in this for him. Casterly Rock is his family’s home. I don’t know if it was done with the intent of limiting you, or just his lack of knowledge.”

Daenerys turned to Qhono and gave some direction in Dothraki. Jon didn’t understand the exchange at all, but the man left the room. Jon looked at her curiously. “Qhono is one of the leaders of the Dothraki, I’ve asked him to send word to the rest of the Khalasar to expect company.” Daenerys explained quickly.

Jon nodded his agreement. “I have to admit, I’m looking forward to seeing the Dothraki in action. They’re vicious in the practice ring. Your forces will be hard to beat.” He smiled at her genuinely. “And I’m glad Robb and I could help.”

“I’ll be totally honest.” Daenerys said. “I’m still wary of your family. I grew up only knowing the Starks as my enemy. Robb and Arya both gave me advice from their point of view, but I won’t follow it if it doesn’t make sense.”

“You’d be foolish not to question their motives.” Jon said. “You wouldn’t have gotten this far if you were foolish.”

Daenerys nodded. “Thank you.” She paused for a long moment and looked slightly uncomfortable. “I’d like for us to spend some time together in the next few days, get to know each other, find commonalities if we’re going to be members of the same House. We’re still in a holding pattern until we know for sure that the Lannisters are making a move, and we’ve got some time here on Dragonstone.”

Jon looked at her for a long moment. She was nervous, not looking too closely at him. She was gorgeous, her dress lined with fur on the inside, thick but not taking away from her curves or slender form. The dragon pin on her shoulder was linked to a silver chain that crossed her front and wrapped around her waist. Her hair was windblown from the time on dragonback. Her cheeks were still red from the cool temperatures outside. He had never been more drawn to a person in his life. He thought a week away would have lessened his desire for her, but instead it seemed amplified. How was he going to survive spending more time with her, getting to know her? But she looked up at him with those big eyes, and he couldn’t help but give in to her request. “Of course, Your Grace. I do need to clean up and rest, but I’ll see you at the evening meal.”

She nodded and excused him. He took a deep breath as he left the chamber.

***

Jon and Daenerys settled into a routine over the next week. They would break their fasts separately, Jon would normally go to the training yard for most of the morning. His sparring with the Dothraki and Unsullied had become intense. They had improved drastically against the sword and Jon found himself yielding at least once a day to various opponents. His battles with Qhono were the longest. They often finished their bouts with neither of them yielding, but too exhausted to finish. Robb found it hilarious that the two would end up just standing opposite of each other, halfheartedly swinging their weapons. 

After the morning in the training ring, Jon and Dany would visit the mines and forges together, spend some time connecting with the dragons, and strategize over the maps with her advisors. Then they would eat the evening meal together either in the dining hall or her solar, and each night ended with a game of cyvasse. He tried really hard not to fall in love with her, but every day he stared at her longer and smiled more with her.

They often retreated to the painted table to assess their future plans. Varys and Tyrion were fielding missives from all over the Seven Kingdoms. Cersei had reportedly secured the Golden Company, a large sellsword group from Essos. Jon hadn’t seen them when he’d been in King’s Landing, but that had been more than a week ago. There wasn’t any word on the movement of the Lannister forces, but Jon and Robb were still in agreement that the Reach was likely their target. Every day that went by the tension seemed to grow, everyone waiting for the next move.

Arya had been haunting the forges still in the face of the thin northern soldier. The work there was slow going. Missandei had translated the best she could but for some of the steps Gendry had to rely on the drawings in the book. He was several trials in and still nowhere closer to Valyrian steel. The man worked day and night trying to perfect the formula. He was confident that once he got the process correct, he could easily make anything they required. Jon was happily surprised by the young man’s work ethic. The bastard Baratheon always seemed to be fully invested in what he was doing and very respectful of both Jon and Daenerys.

It was on one of these tours of the mines and forges that Gendry finally plucked up the courage to actually ask Jon a question. “Your Grace, you have a sister, right?”

“I have two actually, Sansa and Arya.” Jon looked over at Daenerys who was inspecting another area of the forge. She looked up and grinned at the mention of Arya. “Why do you ask?”

“I met Arya. She was with us when we left the capital.” Gendry said nonchalantly. “Yoren from the Night’s Watch was taking recruits up to the Wall. I was sent, along with Arya. I suppose to get us both away from the Lannisters. She was quite the girl, your sister. Is she alright?”

“Yes, she’s fine.” Jon said back to him, he was about to tell him that Arya was here on the island when Daenerys wrapped her arm around his.

“When was the last time you saw Lady Arya?” Daenerys questioned sweetly. Jon looked down at her in confusion, but she just looked up at him, the picture of innocence. He didn’t miss the mischievous sparkle in her eye though. The Dragon Queen was up to something.

“We got separated by the Brotherhood Without Banners. I wanted to join ‘em.” Gendry said angrily. “They’re fighting for the smallfolk in the Riverlands, but they sold me instead.”

“Sold you?” Daenerys asked darkly. “What do you mean sold you?”

“They handed me over to a red witch in exchange for money.” Gendry said. “She brought me here to Dragonstone, that’s where I met Davos. She wanted me for my blood. Said there was power in King’s blood. She was going to burn me, but Davos helped me escape. Arya, Arry as we called her, took it hard when we got separated. I always wondered and worried about her. I’m glad she’s alright.”

Jon went to tell him that she was on the island when Daenerys interrupted him. “I’ll make sure that Prince Jon writes to his sister to tell her about you.” She said sweetly to Gendry. He blushed and nodded his thanks. Jon resisted shuddering when she called him Prince Jon. It was still a title he was getting used to, but she used it often trying to solidify his role in House Targaryen.

Daenerys drug Jon away from the forges and out towards the beach. He turned to look at her confused. “Why didn’t you let me tell him that she’s here?”

“Because now I know why a particular thin soldier has been hanging around the forges every day.” Daenerys said smugly. She and Arya had grown close over the last week. His little sister joined them in her solar for cyvasse and they exchanged stories of their adventures. “Who would have thought that badass assassin Arya Stark had a man in her life?”

“A man in her life?” Jon looked at her like she was mad. “What are you going on about? They travelled together and he wants to know where she ended up.”

Daenerys laughed. “Jon, seriously?”

He glared at her darkly. “She’s my baby sister. She may be a badass assassin, but she’s still my baby sister and she does not have a man!”

She patted his arm. “Alright.” She giggled.

They made their way up to the plains where they would normally meet the dragons. All three had come out of the cave and now laid on the rocks just under the volcano, no doubt basking in the heat. They were visible from the plains, and when he and Daenerys appeared, they would fly right down to them. Today was no exception as the three huge dragons landed close to them in the grass. All three greeted Daenerys first, brushing their snouts close to her hands. Drogon was practically purring, which Jon thought was odd coming from the large, intimidating beast. Rhaegal on the other hand, moved toward Jon after encouragement from his mother. Jon wondered if it would become an issue in the future, that Rhaegal was bonding to him now. It was probably only fair, seeing as Ghost had chosen to be as close to Daenerys as possible whenever he was with the Targaryens. He was often present during their nightly meetings and always laid at her feet, the traitor.

He was happy to see that Rhaegal appeared nearly healed from the bites and scratches inflicted on him by his brothers. His yellow eyes were clear as they looked at Jon and he could sense the animal’s urge to be in the sky with his now airborne brother, Viserion. Drogon must have felt the same because Daenerys interrupted his musing. “I think it’s time to try flying.” She said, looking over at him. He could see the challenge in her gaze, the one that said he wouldn’t be brave enough to try.

His stomach twisted into knots as he looked at the giant green dragon. “Are you sure?” He asked as she climbed up onto Drogon.

“Jon Targaryen, you will ride that dragon, and if you fail, you will go down in history as the most ridiculous Targaryen ever.” Daenerys said chuckling. “You already have a bond with him, and they obviously want to fly today. You’ll be fine. Nothing is better than flying.”

Jon looked at her smiling face for a long moment. Her beauty caught him off guard most of the time, but never more than when she was spending time with her dragons. He took a deep breath and moved to Rhaegal’s side before he could second guess himself.

Mounting Rheagal was the clumsiest he’d ever done anything. He felt his face heat as he scrambled up the side of the green dragon. After he finally found his seat at the base of the dragon’s neck, Rhaegal started to move excited toward the edge of the cliff and Jon panicked. “Rhaegal! Wait!” He screamed at the dragon. Rhaegal continued moving forward. Jon grabbed the larger spikes along his neck out of sheer instinct. Rhaegal extended his wings out from his body just as he leaned out over the sea crashing below. The two plummeted over the edge of the cliff. Jon screamed, his stomach fell through his body and his heart lodged in his throat. Just before they would’ve hit the water, Rhaegal’s wings filled with air and the two soared out over the sea. Salty sea spray hit Jon square in the face as he sat back in his seat. He looked around him, they were gliding just a few feet of the glassy surface of the sea. Rhaegal let out a roar that Jon could feel throughout his whole body. Two answering roars echoed from above him. He looked up and saw Drogon flying high above with a silver-haired passenger. Viserion was looping around up in the sky, performing dizzying maneuvers.

Jon leaned down into Rhaegal, pulling back on his spikes and the dragon followed his command, flapping his wings to gain altitude. Jon moved with the motion of the dragon, the up and down oscillation that occurred because of the flapping of Rhaegal’s wings causing him to feel slightly sick. The movement felt like a mix between a horse’s movement and the motion of a boat on the water. They reached Drogon high up in the air and he looked over at Daenerys. She was smiling a huge smile that he could feel his own face returning. There was nothing better than the feeling of sheer freedom in the air.

The dragons started a journey toward the larger island in Blackwater Bay, Driftmark. The seat of House Velaryon. The island was also volcanic, though the volcano was smaller and less volatile as Dragonstone. The island had large plains and was home to two castles and two towns. Below him he could see the smallfolk watching and pointing at the dragons. They continued flying over the island, passing over its keeps, the castles smaller than Dragonstone and more Westerosi in appearance. 

In unison they flew across the bay to the mainland and glided over the fields of the Crownlands. Jon internally mused about the history of dragonriders in Westeros. He was joining his ancestors in a flight path they had undoubtedly taken. He couldn’t help but feel free in the air and his stomach finally settled as the rhythm of the flight stayed steady. It took a while to get used to how to lead Rhaegal. Their minds were fully connected, which was a strange sensation. He could sense the dragon’s enjoyment of the flight and his desire to fly higher in the sky. Jon leaned back and urged the dragon up by shifting his weight. Rhaegal ascended quickly and Jon could see the others following from the corner of his eye. Before long, Daenerys turned Drogon back in the direction of her island.

They stayed high in the air as they made their way back to Dragonstone. When the island was in sight Jon sighed in relief. The ride was beginning to be uncomfortable for his first time. His legs felt weak and his skin was aching from being exposed to the wind for so long. They circled the great keep a few times. It was incredible to be able to see a whole castle from the sky and to look down at it sprawled beneath him. He could see the Northmen looking up in wonder, no doubt spotting him on the back of a dragon. Rhaegal finally landed in the same field they had taken off from. He slid off the dragon and landed on his backside hard, the wind knocked out of his lungs. He heard a chuffing noise and turned to see the dragon looking at him with what looked like amusement. Then a true sound of amusement did sound behind him. Daenerys stood on the ground next to Drogon laughing heartily. He blushed and shook his head as the dragons moved back toward their nest. Daenerys walked up to him, still giggling. He turned to her. “Well, you’ve completely ruined horses for me.”

She sobered and looked up at him. The familiar tension was there between the two. It was a daily occurrence. They would laugh together or agree on something and then all of the sudden just stop and stare at each other. As per usual, the urge to kiss her was strong, emotions warring in him as he stared in her eyes. He was always the one to break first, she always seemed reluctant to look away. “We should probably head inside. No doubt my siblings will want to know about my first dragon ride.” She nodded, looking disappointed. That made him angry. She was the one to shut down their relationship in the first place. She was still looking for a husband, and he was still expected to find a wife. It wasn’t fair of her to act that way with him. He sighed and offered her his arm as they made their way back to the keep.

The news that Jon had ridden a dragon spread fast throughout the castle. When they found themselves at the painted table later in the day, Tyrion especially seemed uncomfortable with the idea.

“He just let you ride him?” Tyrion questioned with his regular goblet of wine in hand.

Jon shrugged at the smaller man. “We’ve bonded, and I am a Targaryen. It seemed like a logical progression.”

Tyrion huffed. “Well Jon Snow, you’ve come a long way haven’t you? Bastard who was sent to the Wall to spend his days in the frozen North all the way to a legitimate Targaryen dragon lord.” Tyrion paused for a long moment, looking into the goblet he was holding, swirling the wine. “I suppose we should figure out how best to use this development to our advantage. It can’t hurt to have another dragon rider in the sky can it?”

“I was thinking about that.” Robb said, interrupting the melancholy words leaving Tyrion.

Daenerys turned to look at his brother. Jon couldn’t help but feel a spark of jealousy whenever she gave him attention. Robb swore he had no intentions of doing anything with Daenerys and he knew his reaction was irrational, but it was still there. “And Lord Stark?” Dany asked him.

“When we took Winterfell, Jon and the Free Folk used a warg to see the battlefield from the sky. We were able to see things we wouldn’t have from the ground.” Robb explained. 

“What is a warg?” Daenerys asked. 

Robb looked to Jon. “It’s a man that can see through the eyes or even control an animal. This man is bound to a large bird.”

“What does that have to do with riding dragons?” Tyrion asked.

“I think Jon or Daenerys, or both, should fly above King’s Landing and get an idea of what’s going on there. We have information coming out from the city, but nothing that shows the full picture.” Robb explained.

Jon looked at Daenerys and she returned his gaze, her forehead wrinkling as she thought about the idea. “They’re not expecting us. They have no weapons to defend against the dragons. We need to get a look at the layout of the city.” Jon explained to her.

“You’ll incite panic by flying over a city with dragons. Trust me, I know.” Daenerys looked at him. “And Euron is still in the harbor with that damn horn.”

“Would he blow it that close to the city? We just need to stay inland. There’s no reason to even go near the Red Keep.” Jon argued. “We could fly high enough and use the clouds as cover.”

“Could you make it there and back within a day?” Tyrion asked. “I don’t think it’s advisable to stop somewhere for the night.”

Daenerys seemed to be lost in thought from her position at the table, so Jon cleared his throat. She looked up at him with determination. “If it will help us to know how the movement is occurring in King’s Landing, then I think we should go.”

“I strongly object to this plan.” Tyrion said.

“It’s noted, Lord Hand.” Daenerys said darkly.

The next morning Jon and Daenerys mounted their dragons and set off in the direction of the capital city. The flight was long and Jon knew he’d be sore from having to constantly squeeze the beast with his legs. He was still learning exactly how to work with Rhaegal and found it easiest if they followed Dany and Drogon.

They stayed up for about a few hours until their goal came into view. King’s Landing was even more impressive from the air than from the water. He could see the large city sprawled out from the base of the Red Keep. The sight was different than the nearly two weeks before when Jon had seen it for the first time. The water surrounding the Red Keep was filled with nearly double the vessels than had been there before and the walls of the city seemed to have been fortified. Cersei was preparing for a siege.

Jon screamed at Daenerys over the wind. “Let’s go high. I don’t have the best control of Rhaegal yet, and I don’t want to get too close.”

She nodded back at him. “We’re not doing anything but gathering information. Stay out of reach!”

Both of them flew high up in the clouds. True to their plan, Daenerys led them far away from the fleet he could see in the bay. They flew slowly, circling the city. The weather was on their side, the clouds covering the sun enough that the dragons didn’t cause that much of a shadow. Jon noted the movement of the soldiers around the city, their dark armor glinting like beetles from the ground. He saw that ironically the least guarded gate was the Dragon Gate, close to the Dragon Pit on the northwestern corner of the city. Their armies would reach the Gate of the Gods if they came by the King’s Road, but it was helpful to know that the Dragon Gate was relatively abandoned. Especially since there was quite a bit of movement at the Gate of the Gods.

That movement was brighter than the black armor of House Lannister but armor all the same. It was gold. The Golden Company had arrived. Varys had reported that Cersei had made a deal with the Iron Bank for a sellsword company, and apparently, they had arrived. The company was known for elephants, animals similar to the mammoths used by the giants, but Jon saw none. The majority of the golden armored men seemed to be concentrated near the Gate of the Gods. He looked toward the now fortified walls. 

Jon saw large black contraptions sitting on the walls, but he couldn’t quite make out what he was looking at. He looked over at Daenerys and indicated the structures. She shook her head showing she didn’t know what they were looking at. He signaled that he was going down for a closer inspection. He took a chance and pushed Rhaegal into a shallow, silent dive. His eyes widened as he realized he was looking at a ballista, essentially a huge crossbow. There could only be one intended target, the dragons.

Suddenly, he was very glad they had decided to stay high in the clouds. None of the contraptions seemed to have men at them, in fact none of the men were even looking skyward. Deciding not to take the chance, Jon moved Rhaegal higher. That’s when he heard the commotion below. He had been spotted. He could see people stopping and looking up at the sky, shouts from the soldiers echoed up at him. He moved Rhaegal safely into the cloud cover and joined Daenerys and the other dragons.

“We have a problem.” He shouted at her. “They’re preparing for the dragons!”

“That’s to be expected!” She yelled back over the distance between them. “But at least now we know!”

They both turned their mounts and headed back to the safety of Dragonstone. Jon was comforted in knowing the trip was not in vain. They had learned some valuable information, but the presence of the ballistae did create a whole new complication. When they arrived back at Daenerys’s stronghold they made their way to the chamber to discuss the information with their council of advisors.

***

The morning after their long flight, Jon was awoken by a very enthusiastic Davos. “Come on, Yer Grace, get up!”

Jon groaned. Every part of his body was sore because of the long ride on the dragon yesterday. Daenerys must have thighs of steel from riding Drogon. Jon shook his head, trying not to think about those thighs wrapped around him. He sighed and sat up in his bed. “What is the meaning of all this Davos? This is the most excited I think I’ve ever seen you.” Jon said as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

“Get dressed.” Davos said, throwing his clothes at him. “We’re needed in the forges. Gendry thinks he’s got it!”

The prospect of actual Valyrian steel woke him up quickly from there. He dressed hurriedly and grabbed a slice of bread on his way out the door. Heads turned as the two men practically ran through the castle. Jon briefly saw into the dining hall where Robb and Arianne were sitting next to each other, heads pressed closely together. He felt a presence behind him and turned to see Arya, disguised as the soldier running with them. 

They made it down to the forges where a filthy and sweaty Gendry was waiting. “I’ve never actually even held a Valyrian steel sword so I’m not sure if I’ve hit it, but I think we’re close.” Gendry said quickly as they approached. He reached to the stone bench and pulled forth a blade a little wider than Longclaw, but of a similar length.

Jon looked at him shocked. “You haven’t seen Valyrian steel? And we’ve been asking you to make it?” Jon nearly laughed in exasperation. “Sorry about that, didn’t even think about it. We can at least compare it against Longclaw.” He drew out his sword and held it next to the newly crafted blade. The distinctive patterns in the steel were there, along with the shiny quality. He exchanged the two and took the new blade from Gendry. He swung it around a few times to feel the balance and weight. “Gendry, this is really nice, well balanced, I like the shape.”

“Thanks.” Gendry responded, looking nervous. “I actually made it for you. I heard some of your men say that you can fight with two swords. To get the best balance for that, both blades should be pretty equal in length, but this one is thicker and will be slightly heavier. It’s meant for your non-dominant hand. It will help equal you out when you fight with both. I have an idea for the pommel but didn’t want to make it until we knew if this worked.”

“Fighting with two swords isn’t something I try to do often, but thank you.” Jon said looking at the younger man with respect. “How will we know if it’s actually Valyrian steel?”

“I guess try it against another Valyrian blade?” Gendry said, shrugging. “You can take this one if you want and train against Longclaw.”

“Yes, we’ll go do that now.” Jon responded. “Gendry? What creates the patterns in the metal and allows it to kill White Walkers do you think?”

“The patterns are because the blade is metal mixed with dragonglass.” Gendry responded. “That’d be my best guess as to why it defeats the Others, based on what you’ve told me. Also, there’s all these weird Valyrian runes everywhere down here, so there might be some magic involved.” Gendry looked at the walls of the cave cautiously as if they were suddenly going to come alive.

Jon nodded and sheathed Longclaw. He thanked Gendry again, patting the young man on the back. He took both swords and headed back towards the castle. He turned, looking for Arya but she was still watching Gendry from the mouth of the cave. He whistled at her and she blushed and ran toward him. He sent her ahead to get Robb and made his way into the practice yard. When Robb showed up to face him, he tossed Longclaw in his direction. Robb looked at him, confused. “What’s going on?” He asked.

“We’re testing Gendry’s Valyrian steel.” Jon said, holding up the new blade. Robb shrugged. “Okay, let’s do this.”

Robb and Jon sparred for what felt like hours. Jon put the blade through its paces, and it held up at every turn. They switched swords and tried it that way, even Robb said that it felt right, it was definitely Valyrian steel. Excited, Jon headed back to the forges with the sword. “It works! I think you’ve got it!” He said triumphantly at Gendry. “Although, to be fair I don’t know if we’ll know for sure until we meet the enemy on the battlefield.” Jon shuddered at the thought of going into battle with an untested weapon.

“Thank the Gods.” Gendry replied. “I was beginning to think I’d never get there. Do you want me to make the pommel for this one?”

“Yes, please.” Jon replied. “And I need another favor if it’s not too much to ask…”

***

The next day found Jon in a strategy meeting. The entire chamber was filled with alliance members. Daenerys sat at her usual seat, near Dragonstone, Jon and Robb near the North with Davos, Arianne was across from them near Dorne, Theon on the western side of the table where the Iron Islands were located. Tyrion sat next to Daenerys, between her and Arianne. They had just finished explaining the layout of the weapons and men throughout King’s Landing, and Tyrion was not happy that he’d allowed Daenerys close to the ballistae.

“Were you trying to get her killed?” Tyrion asked Jon.

Normally, Jon might be ridden with guilt over the decision over putting Daenerys in danger, but he truly felt he was in the right. He crossed his arms, settled back in his seat, and glared at the Hand of the Queen. The rest of the Northmen in the room seemed to catch his defiant attitude because they all perked up behind him. Next to him Robb raised his head and sent a strong look at Tyrion. The man must have noticed that the Northmen did not appreciate either his tone or his message because he seemed to deflate and sit back in his seat.

“Are you questioning my brother’s strategy or his honor, Lord Tyrion.” Robb said. “This plan was concocted by both Jon and Daenerys. She knew what she was doing just as much as he did. Maybe more because she’s been riding dragons for years.” Jon was shocked by the strength in his tone. Ever since he had returned from King’s Landing, Robb seemed to have found some of his old spirit again. He said straighter, his eyes clear and calculating, his smiles fewer as he became more serious. Jon didn’t know if it was because of his conversation with Daenerys or the missive from Winterfell that had come a few days ago. They were all in this chamber to discuss the latest reports around Westeros and their plans to deal with the coming conflicts. 

“Lord Stark, it was a foolish errand. One that could have gotten himself, or more importantly the Queen, killed. I objected when it was suggested and now that I know that the walls of King’s Landing are lined with weapons to destroy dragons, I realize just how easily we could have lost Her Grace.” Tyrion continued. “What was gained by flying over King’s Landing with dragons that couldn’t have been done by Lord Varys’s informants?”

“Lord Varys knows that the Dragon Gate has practically no men guarding it, the walls are lined with ballistae, the fleet has doubled, and that the Golden Company has arrived?” Jon asked seriously. Tyrion looked very uncomfortable and turned to look at Varys.

The bald man stood against the wall, silent as always with his hands tucked away. Jon hadn’t missed the tension between him and Daenerys, she seemed very wary of The Spider. Varys moved forward and spoke. “I received word about the arrival of the sellswords, yes. Which also explains the fleet as they were probably the ones who transported the men from Essos.”

“And why didn’t you report it, Lord Varys?” Daenerys asked him strictly.

“I was simply waiting for confirmation of troop movements, Your Grace.” Varys said, looking bored. Every eye in the room was on Varys and the byplay between him and his sworn monarch. “It was not information I was trying to keep from you.”

“Did he also fail to mention that Jaime Lannister has left the capital with a large group of men, bound for Highgarden?” Jon asked, looking at Tyrion and Daenerys.

They both stared at him with their mouths hanging open. “How do you know that?” Tyrion asked.

“We received word this morning from our contact in King’s Landing that he left the day after Daenerys and I flew over the city.” Jon said steadily. Clara had sent word to Davos, mentioning that she had seen the dragon in the sky and that night the Lannister men came to have one last hurrah. A few of the men were bragging about how they were planning on sacking Highgarden.

“Since when do the Northmen have contacts in King’s Landing?” Arianne asked, looking at both Jon and Robb speculatively. “I didn’t think the honorable northerners participated in spycraft.”

“We learned our lesson when our father was beheaded because of others’ ‘spycraft’.” Robb said harshly. “We have no intention of losing this war, which is why Jon wanted to survey King’s Landing via dragon and why we have contacts in the city.”

Everyone at the table looked at the brothers with looks ranging from amusement to admiration except for Tyrion and Varys. Jon watched as they both looked speculatively at the Starks. He especially didn’t like the look in Varys’s eyes, as if he suddenly had a whole new plan brewing.

“Alright, so we have Jaime Lannister and his men heading towards Highgarden. They’ll meet with the Dothraki on the battlefield.” Daenerys started. “I want to be there. I promised Olenna her revenge and I need to make sure the Dothraki can effectively battle the Lannister army, and I want Jon with me.”

“How are you going to beat the Lannisters to Highgarden, Your Grace?” Arianne asked.

“Dragons, of course.” Daenerys replied, smiling at Jon.

“So while you go and battle Jaime Lannister in the Reach, where will the rest of us go?” Arianne asked.

“Princess Arianne, we would be very grateful if you set up camp for our armies outside of King’s Landing.” Tyrion suggested. “Theon will ferry you to the mainland, directly there, and you’ll travel by land to the capital. We want to avoid Euron Greyjoy if at all possible.”

“Euron is a big problem, do we have a plan for him? And to get Yara back?” Theon asked.

Daenerys looked at Theon sympathetically. “I wish I could tell you that Yara was a priority, Theon. We will do everything we can to recover her, but not until we’re ready to face Euron.”

“At least the arrival of the Golden Company explains where his fleet has been all this time.” Arianne shuddered. She was terrified of the man who attacked their fleet and killed her family members. “Cersei must have sent him to get them and bring them back to Westeros. We know he’s in King’s Landing now, and has been for at least a week, but he’s been too quiet for the last few weeks altogether.”

Everyone at the table nodded. “Our battle will come to a head on the seas, Theon do we have the ships to withstand a battle?” Tyrion asked.

“Possibly.” Theon nodded slowly. “We should focus on drawing them here though, rather than going to them. The island will naturally force him to use a smaller number of ships.”

“The dragon horn is the priority.” Jon said. “If we can’t destroy it, he’ll continue to have an advantage.”

“It’s not possible to sneak on to his ships to destroy it.” Davos said. “You saw how close they are together in the harbor. No doubt he’s got a crew watching over them.”

“We’ll have to deal with that when the time comes.” Tyrion said, sighing.

“What will the Northern armies be doing while the Dothraki, Unsullied, the Reach, and the Dornish fight for King’s Landing?” Arianne asked haughtily. She raised her eyebrows and met Robb’s blue eyes.

Jon knew they had been spending a lot of time together, but he didn’t know the nature of the attachment. Apparently, there was still hostility despite being bedmates.

“The Northmen are done mining or will be by tomorrow. I will be sailing home in two days and returning to Winterfell.” Robb stated.

The room exploded in outrage and questions. Jon and Robb both took deep breaths and looked at each other. Jon was astounded by how much Robb looked like father at that moment. He might have had a slight color difference from him due to the Tully in him, but he was every inch a Northern Lord. For a brief moment he had a thought, if Ned Stark had supported him as a Targaryen, is this how it would have been? Two cousins who were truly brothers sitting at the painted table planning wars? Maybe they were always destined to end up here. They both turned at once back to the room to face the questions together. There were some rather nasty accusations coming from Arianne in particular. Obviously, something had happened between her and Robb because she had never appeared this cutting before. They stoically sat watching the room. Daenerys was the only quiet person in the room, staring at the two of them. Davos finally cleared his throat loudly and the room settled down. Robb turned to glance at him and nodded his head once.

“Robb will be returning to the North.” Jon said strongly. “We’ve received information from Sansa that the Riverland armies, headed by her uncle, Lord Edmure, are on their way to Winterfell. The Knights of the Vale have remained there all this time and are becoming restless. Seeds of dissent are being planted by Petyr Baelish. The last thing we need is a breakdown of our alliances in the northern kingdoms.” He paused and looked at everyone then. Most were still offended that Robb would go home to Winterfell so close to the battles for the capital. “We are fighting a war on two fronts. Or rather, two wars on different fronts. The North needs Robb and the dragonglass we have mined. Gendry has finally managed to make decent Valyrian steel and will stay here until he’s produced as much as he can. The Great War is upon us and the North needs a Warden and Lord at Winterfell.”

“So, you’re sending away one of our best military assets to the North to fight the imaginary war from beyond the wall?” Tyrion asked. “I’ll admit that we agreed to your forces staying north to deal with the threat, but you can’t convince me that three of the seven kingdoms should stay out of this fight because of an army of dead men.”

“The south will win the throne for Daenerys, and then what? The North reaps the rewards of our hard work?” Arianne spewed at them. “You haven’t even provided evidence of this threat north of the Wall.”

“Princess Arianne, I seriously hope you never see the evidence of the armies north of the Wall.” Jon said to her. “You’ll have nightmares for the rest of your life. And if you ever actually see the army of the dead, that will mean that we have failed, and the entire world is doomed anyway. Did you think I would just forget about my responsibilities in the North? Yes, the North is part of the Seven Kingdoms, and they will protect the rest of the kingdoms from everlasting winter.”

“We should at least discuss this.” Tyrion said.

“We have discussed it.” Jon replied and looked at Daenerys. “You knew from the beginning that the war in the North was my priority. Sending Robb back is part of that war. I’m staying with you and helping you take King’s Landing as part of our alliance.”

Daenerys took a deep breath and looked Jon in the eye. They communicated silently over the table. He’d never lied to her. She knew that it was always his plan to save the North, that he believed it was his true purpose and duty. Finally, she nodded. “Robb Stark will go back to the North. Jon will come with me to Highgarden and then help me win King’s Landing. Arianne, you will be expected to set up camp for our armies outside of the city. Theon, you and your men will facilitate the safe passage of both of them.”

Tyrion went to go speak, but Daenerys held up her hand. “That’s it. That is the plan. Tyrion and Varys will stay here as we go to Highgarden.” Daenerys looked at Jon. He knew it was probably inappropriate, but he was so attracted to the strong woman leading their forces into war. He could feel his eyes burning into hers. “Everyone leaves in two days’ time.”

The next two days flew by with preparations. The island had come alive with bustling activity. Arya had elected to stay on Dragonstone and wait for Jon’s return from Highgarden. She said it was to keep an eye on Varys and Tyrion, but he suspected the blacksmith had something to do with it too. Qhono would be going with Arianne to eventually meet the Dothraki on the plains before the city. Red Flea and his remaining Unsullied would continue to guard Dragonstone. Jon hadn’t seen much of Daenerys in the last few days as he helped Robb prepare for the journey home. He did see her watching them spar, testing each new blade Gendry produced, and they all had their evening meal in the dining hall, but the nightly games of cyvasse seemed to be on hold.

The night before their departures found Robb and Jon at the battlements overlooking the mainland. Gendry had completed Jon’s request from a few days before and had worked hard to achieve it. The gift lay to Jon’s opposite from his brother. Robb sighed as he looked out over Westeros. “What a weird place we’ve found ourselves in, brother.”

Jon chuckled. “True.” He turned to look at Robb. “Do you want to tell me what happened with Arianne?”

Robb sighed. “When we started, I thought it would just be fun. The Dornish never seem that concerned with anything long term.” He snorted and chuckled. “Arianne made me feel things I haven’t felt in a long time. I’ll always be grateful for that, because I didn’t know if I could feel that way again. But she’s the Princess of Dorne and I’m the Warden of the North. My place, and my future, if I don’t die in this damn war, will be in Winterfell. I left duty behind once and paid a steep price. I still believe love is possible, but I’m much more aware of my obligations.” Robb took a deep breath and turned to look at him. “You’re lucky.”

Jon’s brow furrowed. “Why?”

“Because your love and duty have managed to coincide very nicely.” Robb smirked. Jon turned away from Robb and looked out from Dragonstone. His lack of response didn’t keep his brother from continuing. “You two will figure out what the rest of us already know, you’re destined for this, for each other.”

Jon sighed and turned back toward him, choosing to ignore the comments about his relationship with Daenerys. “Robb, thank you for coming here with me.” Jon said. “I couldn’t have done all of this without you, and even though I’m still angry you named me King without asking me, it was probably the right call.”

“Probably?” Robb said chuckling. “You’ve always needed someone to push you toward things you consider selfish, Jon. That’s why she’s good for you. She’ll make sure you get everything you actually deserve. And she’ll help take those duties off your big brother.”

Jon rolled his eyes at him. “I had something made for you.” Robb turned toward him as Jon grabbed the package Gendry had given him. “After he made mine, I asked him to make you one.” Jon gestured down to the second sword on his hip, the green dragon pommel glinting in the sunlight. Now both of his swords reflected his bonds. Ghost would be leaving with Robb, going back North where he belonged, and Rhaegal would be with him in the flesh and on the sword. “If any house deserves to have a Valyrian steel sword, it’s House Stark.”

Robb unwrapped the package slowly. It was not the massive size of Ice, the family’s ancient sword, but just slightly larger than Longclaw. Gendry assured him it would be the perfect size for Robb, who was slightly taller and bulkier than Jon. The Valyrian steel was beautiful. The patterns in the metal seeming to dance in the sunset. The pommel was not as intricate as the green dragon, but it had two bands of metal woven together a lighter and darker grey. The sword’s handle ended in a large medallion with the Stark direwolf pressed into it. It was beautiful and clean. Robb looked up at him. “Thank you.” He whispered reverently. “I think I’ll name it Wolf’s Bite.” Jon smiled and clapped his brother on the shoulder. 

The next morning Jon watched the ship sail North toward White Harbor from Rhaegal’s back. He heard Drogon’s roar of impatience and rolled his eyes, turning his dragon to the west.


	14. Daenerys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dany and Jon make their way to Highgarden. They meet with Lady Olenna, the Reach knights, and the Dothraki. The Targaryen alliance finally meets the Lannisters on the battlefield for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Wednesday!
> 
> I hope you enjoy and have a great day!!
> 
> Thanks AbstractlySydney for your help!

Daenerys was convinced that she had been tricked by Robb Stark. It was Robb who had suggested that she spend more time with Jon and get to know him since he was her heir. The result was she was now well and truly in love with the Prince of Dragonstone. She looked over at him as he flew on Rhaegal, making their way to Highgarden. Over the last few weeks she had learned so much about him. There was the obvious, he was a beautiful man. The dark eyes and hair but milky white skin. He wasn’t as tall as many men she had known, but in the few times her body had been pressed into his she felt small and delicate next to him. Then she got to know him beneath his physical appearance.

He had the same protective drive that she did. They both wanted to build something better for other people and felt it was their responsibility to stand for their people. He was intelligent. He was seriously gifted with the sword, she had been so heated after watching him spar, but she always made sure she was present to watch the spectacle. But perhaps the most attractive thing about Jon Targaryen was that simmering intensity. She had watched his eyes light with fire, only for it to be tempered by the ice that existed in him. She had gotten to a point that she purposefully said and did things just to see that fire light.

She was in so much trouble. They had decided, she had decided, that he would be the future of House Targaryen. Just the thought of him building a family with anyone else had her so angry and frustrated that Drogon growled in response to her emotions. She needed to make a decision. Either she let go of this back and forth, intense relationship or decide that Targaryen heirs weren’t as important as she originally thought. Tyrion was no help. He was fully committed to the original plan. She looked forward to seeking the counsel of Olenna Tyrell. She always seemed to be able to see things that the men around her couldn’t.

The trip took hours, nearly all day. At one point, they spotted the Lannister army below them. Jaime Lannister had obviously not brought the entire force of his family, probably thinking that Highgarden would be an easy target. Their red tents stretched across a valley below them. Jon motioned to her and pointed to the part of the camp that flew different colors from the red and gold. She recognized the Tarly sigil amongst other minor Reach houses. Her blood boiled. It seemed the reach was turning on House Tyrell with the death of their primary heirs. She was tempted to burn them all where they stood, but it would not be a good idea to attack the army with no men to support them if something went wrong. So she reluctantly urged Drogon to continue west, and Rhaegal and Viserion followed. It was impossible to tell whether or not they had been spotted by the Lannisters, but she took comfort in the fact that she hadn’t heard any screaming down in the camp. They arrived at Highgarden as the sun was setting.

Highgarden was a large keep made of bright white stone set at the top of a large hill. The effect was that the castle sat high above the plains below. She saw a large labyrinth of plants at the base of the castle, and just beyond was the large Dothraki camp. She could see fires already lit amongst the thousands of tents, one large one in the center of camp, her tent. The Dothraki always set up a tent for their Khaleesi and she loved being in the center of their world. They landed on the outskirts of the camp. She chuckled softly as she watched Jon dismount from Rhaegal. It wasn’t as clumsy as his first disastrous slide from the dragon’s back, but it still lacked his usual grace. She stepped down from Drogon much more delicately. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to get down that smoothly.” Jon said to her, straightening himself. He stretched carefully, obviously sore after the long day on dragonback. She smiled at his grumpiness.

“Let’s meet with the Dothraki then make our way up to the keep, they’ll be expecting us.” She said. He nodded and held out his arm. She took it and moved towards the Dothraki coming to meet them.

“Chakko.” Daenerys exclaimed. “It’s good to see you.” She said in Dothraki.

The silent man nodded back and turned to the other Dothraki standing next to him. “Khaleesi, I am called Zhowo, I ride with Chakko.” The man answered in their language. “It is good to have you back with your people.”

She smiled at them and turned to Jon. “This is Jon Targaryen. He is my commander.” She explained to them. To her shock Jon greeted both men in their language. She turned to him with wide eyes.

Jon just shrugged. “Qhono taught me some, I thought it would be helpful on the battlefield.”

Daenerys was frustrated, just another way he was perfect. She nearly rolled her eyes at him. She turned back to Chakko and Zhowo and spoke to them in Dothraki. “We saw the enemy on their way here. They should arrive in two days. They do not have many horses, most men are on foot, but they do have iron suits.”

Chakko shrugged and Zhowo simply said. “They will die in their iron suits. We will bring honor to our Khaleesi.”

She nodded. “Have you been to the stone house yet?”

Zhowo answered, “The old woman invited us for meals, but we do not like to be inside. Her young man comes to visit us. He is learning our tongue and teaches us his. He is not a fighter but has respect for the Dothraki.”

Daenerys nodded. They spent almost an hour walking through the camp, ending in front of her tent. Jon had asked questions along the way and she and Zhowo spent the time to explain the Dothraki culture to him. He did his best to pay attention, but it was obvious he was exhausted. He was walking stiffly as if he had injured himself riding Rhaegal. Dany thought back to the early days riding Drogon and remembered how long it took her body to adjust. He still needed to keep a tight physical hold on her green dragon as their bond was still coming together. Luckily, dragons healed fast and Rhaegal was flying easily. She looked up at the large tent set up for her.

“Khaleesi will sleep here with her bloodriders, yes?” Zhowo asked.

“Soon. I need to speak with the old woman in the stone house tonight.” Daenerys said. “Then I will sleep under the stars with you, blood of my blood.”

She and Jon were supplied with horses and several Dothraki escorted them to the castle. Dany stifled her laughter as Jon struggled to mount his horse. He was obviously still getting used to his time on Rhaegal. He looked over at her with a dark look and straightened quickly in his seat. She was met with the green and gold banners of House Tyrell as they made it to the Keep. In the main courtyard stood the knights of the Reach, all wearing shiny metal armor. Lady Olenna in her black dress stood powerfully flanked on either side by two young men wearing the colors of House Tyrell.

“Your Grace.” Lady Olenna greeted, bowing her head low. “Welcome to Highgarden. These are my grandsons, Garlan and Willas.”

Both men were attractive with kind eyes and dirty blond hair. Garlan was dressed in full armor and his chest was slightly puffed out, as if trying to look larger than he was. Willas was the opposite. He wore no armor, just a quilted jacket in his house colors. He was thin, he looked like he wouldn’t even be able to lift a sword, let alone use it. Daenerys greeted both men and Lady Olenna then turned to Jon. “Lady Olenna, may I present my nephew and heir, Jon Targaryen the Prince of Dragonstone.”

“Quite an elevation from Jon Snow, the bastard son of Eddard Stark.” She said, eyeing him with a raised eyebrow.

“A shock for us both, my lady.” Jon responded bowing his head.

She looked at him for a long moment and then nodded at him and turned back to Daenerys. It seemed that Jon had passed the first test of the Queen of Thorns, but he obviously wasn’t worth her time. “We’re glad to have you here, Your Grace. It seems my enemies have multiplied over the last few weeks.”

“I saw that on the way in. It seems like several of your bannermen have defected to the Lannisters.” Daenerys added with an edge. “You were the last person I expected to abide that level of treason.”

“They’re all rats, especially Tarly. He smelled blood and hopped right over to do Cersei’s bidding.” Olenna looked disgusted. “All of his talk about honor and he turns his allegiance the moment he can.”

“I don’t expect much honor from a man who sends his firstborn son to the Night’s Watch simply because he didn’t understand his character. Or offered to kill him instead.” Jon said bitterly. “I’ll happily meet Lord Tarly on the battlefield.”

“Eagerness to battle is not a very becoming trait in a prince.” Olenna said to him, her eyebrow raised in his direction.

“I’m never eager for battle, Lady Olenna.” Jon said sharply back. “But it is a necessary evil that I am always prepared for.”

“I didn’t expect a son of Ned Stark to have such a sharp tongue and quick wit.” Olenna said more to her than to Jon. “Perhaps that’s the dragon in him?” Daenerys turned to look at him to gage his reaction to the commentary. He looked at her with carefully controlled anger. Her stomach swooped at those dark eyes meeting hers.

“Jon is definitely a Targaryen, but don’t know if it’s the dragon or the wolf that you’re waking, Lady Olenna.” Daenerys laughed with her, gently teasing him.

Highgarden was much lighter than Dragonstone. The walls were warmer, and the colors of House Tyrell added to the richness of the fabrics in the castle. The air smelled of flowers, and while pleasant Daenerys found herself missing the fire and brimstone of her island. The mood in the castle was jovial. The Reach was known for being a place of chivalry and knighthood. As she looked around the room, she couldn’t find a single knight she thought could touch the Dothraki on the battlefield. They’d find out in the next two days. Jon excused himself to meet with the captains among the men, no doubt trying to determine a strategy.

A servant of Highgarden slowly and quietly approached their party. “Lady Olenna, the feast is ready to begin.”

Olenna scowled at them. “The feast will begin, when I am ready. Not it.”

The servant bowed quickly then moved away from them. “I have a seat for you and Lord Targaryen at the high table.” Lady Olenna said. “Is there anyone else I should add?”

Daenerys shook her head. “The Dothraki will stay in camp, they might come up for a victory feast in a few days though.”

“Your savages have caused quite a stir, Your Grace.” Olenna said. Daenerys cringed at the word choice. “All these prissy knights in their fancy armor wouldn’t stand a chance against one of them. They know it too. They’re half the reason Jaime Lannister has my bannermen following him.”

“I’m sorry if they’ve caused you trouble, my lady.” Daenerys started.

Olenna waved her off. “Please. I want Cersei Lannister dead. The only way that’s going to happen is with actual fighting men. I don’t give a damn where they come from. My men will secure King’s Landing with the Dornish army and the Dothraki will keep us safe. That was the agreement. Besides, all of this has just solidified which of my bannermen actually need to die. A clean slate for Garlan or Willas to take over.” She shuddered at the thought.

Daenerys questioned that. “Forgive me, my lady, but you seem to have a poor opinion of your grandsons.”

Olenna sighed. “It’s not that they’re bad men. Garlan is kind, and admittedly smarter than his father, but he will be taken advantage of all his life. He has no killer instinct. Willas is intelligent and has the cunning to survive life at court, but he’s always been weak physically. He’s taken quite an interest in your Dothraki.”

“Yes, they mentioned that he visits them.” Daenerys agreed.

“Loras was the true bachelor of our house. Yes, he preferred the company of men to women, he would have loved your prince, but he was the most attractive and intelligent. The crowning glory of my family really. Margaery was everything a queen should be. I practically raised that girl myself.” Olenna said, sadness coming into her eyes. “Cersei stole the future from me. My granddaughter was Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, and my grandson could have married into any noble house. Now, I don’t really give a damn who sits on the throne so long as Cersei rots.”

Daenerys shuddered slightly and looked at her concerned. “Lady Olenna, I know that you’re in my alliance more for the cause of vengeance than the desire to build a better world, but I would appreciate it if you helped me do that.”

Olenna nodded reluctantly. “Perhaps once my debt has been paid, I’ll be more open to what you have to say. Now, let’s go to the feast before they lose their minds.” All of the servants were slowly moving around the room trying to stall the festivities.

The feast was enjoyable, the food much needed after a long day on the dragons. She and Jon were practically falling asleep at the table and Olenna was gracious enough to allow them to be excused. As they moved toward their rooms, several Dothraki entered, led by Willas Tyrell.

“Your Grace.” He bowed to Daenerys. “Your Grace.” He nodded to Jon. “I thought you might be more comfortable if you had your own guards in the keep.”

She smiled at the thin man. “Thank you, Lord Willas. It is greatly appreciated.” Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Jon straighten and come to a rigid stance during the interaction. He didn’t say anything, but she could feel the tension coming off of him in waves. She didn’t understand his reaction and sent him a quelling look. He just shook his head and made his way back to his rooms. “Good night, my lord.” Dany said to the young man as she watched Jon’s back retreat down the hallway.

“Your Grace.” The man said again, bowing to her. She entered her rooms and found her bed quickly. She didn’t even have time to think about Jon’s reaction to Willas as she fell asleep quickly.

***

The next day found Jon and Daenerys in a room with Lady Olenna, Lord Garlan, Ser Horas Redwyne, and Ser Gareth Fossoway. The two knights were the heirs apparent to their houses and loyal bannermen of House Tyrell. Both men were dressed in their full tourney armor as they sat at the table with the maps of the Reach laid before them. They were attractive. Both had curly hair and light eyes, but it was clear that they were soft, no visible scars at all. The men each had a goblet of arbor gold in front of them. She looked to Jon. In contrast to the two Reach knights, Jon stood at the table, hands leaning on the surface as he studied the maps. His brow was furrowed, and he was definitely not drinking wine. His northern armor was not polished and embellished with his sigil. It was quilted and fit close to his body so that he could move easily. His swords were strapped to his hip, both the wolf and dragon pommels visible. The scars on his face stood out and made him look even more rough. Every single thing about him appealed to her on the most basic level.

“How many Reach bannermen have joined the Lannisters?” Jon asked the room.

The two knights looked at each other and sat up in their seats. “We know Tarly is with him, that’ll be at least 300 men. The last I heard House Oakheart was also thinking of joining them. If they do, that’s another 200 minimum.” Ser Redwyne answered.

“Oakheart has also turned to the Lannisters?” Olenna asked. She seemed shocked by this turn. “Why would Lady Arwyn do that, she’s always been a stalwart supporter of House Tyrell.”

“Most likely she was coerced into it.” Ser Fossoway said. “She has two sons who were Kingsguard to Robert Baratheon. It’s a good chance that they’re still in King’s Landing. I wouldn’t be surprised at all if Cersei used them as an incentive. She’s loyal to House Tyrell when not under duress.”

Daenerys studied both men and raised her eyebrow when Ser Redwyne lifted his goblet to his lips. He seemed to get the hint and straightened under her gaze, placing the cup back on the table and hardening his jaw.

“Are there any chances either house switches during the battle?” Daenerys asked seriously.

Both knights looked more engaged as Dany looked at them. Both had moved the wine and stood up at the table, obviously she was making an impression. The power in the room was visibly shifting in her direction. “Tarly won’t switch.” Horas said. “He’s a mean son of a bitch, especially once he’s made up his mind about something.”

Gareth nodded his assent. “I was fostered at Horn Hill with his sons. He treated his eldest like a bug under his shoe. He finally sent him to the Wall, I think. I’d be surprised if he survived. Dickon, his younger son, is most likely with him. He’s a good man, but utterly loyal to his father. They’ve been raiding villages the last few weeks, robbing them of whatever grain they have, taking much more than they should. No doubt Tarly is about to hand it over to the Lannisters. They’re doing exactly what we all thought the Dothraki would be doing. It’s disgraceful.”

“Samwell Tarly is alive and well and in service to House Targaryen.” Daenerys said. 

“Will the Tarly’s hesitate during the battle?” Jon asked seriously.

“Against the Dothraki, probably not.” Gareth responded, he seemed to be the more amiable of the two. “They see them as foreign invaders and barbarians.” Based on the tone of voice and the look on his face, Gareth probably agreed with this sentiment. He continued, “against us though, probably. We were all raised together. All of those men have participated in or watched our tourneys, and they all took oaths to serve House Tyrell. This kind of behavior is relatively unheard of in the Reach.”

Jon looked at the maps thoughtfully, his eyes moving back and forth over the outlines of the area. “What are you thinking?” Daenerys asked him after a long moment.

He looked up and met her eyes shrewdly before turning to the rest of the company. “I think we give the men a chance to hesitate.”

That got everyone’s attention. The two knights looked at him as they would their commander, both of their faces had taken on a hard, serious quality. Daenerys thought Jon was magnificent, every inch a Targaryen warlord, ready to do what he could to win his house the throne. “How do we do that?” Garlan asked.

“We station only the soldiers of the Reach outside of Highgarden. They’ll present the united front against the Lannisters, Tarlys, and Oakhearts.” Jon started.

Garlan interrupted him quickly. “The Lannisters will have a heavy number of cavalry, we don’t. And as much as I’d like to say we could beat anyone hand to hand, I recognize that tourney fights are much different than actual battle.”

Jon looked at him sharply. “Your forces aren’t there to fight the Lannisters. They will merely present the opportunity for the defected Reach families to return to their liege lord. Once the parley is conducted between us and Jaime Lannister, the Dothraki will take it from there. They will attack from the divot in the hill here.” Jon pointed to the long stretch in between the hills leading up to Highgarden. From the approaching Lannister’s point of view, they would see the top of the hill where the Reach armies would be, but not the Dothraki down in the lower ground below the castle. “The Dothraki were brought here to fight Her Grace’s enemies and they need action. We’ll give it to them. We’ll also show them dragon fire. If we can take out most of the Lannister forces now, King’s Landing will be much easier.”

“Why the subterfuge? Why not just meet them face to face with the Dothraki?” Olenna asked seriously.

“I would prefer to kill as few people as necessary.” Jon said flatly. “This gives the men time to choose their side. Once the battle starts, the Dothraki won’t discriminate, and neither will our dragons.”

Daenerys nodded seriously. “We won’t be able to save everyone on the battlefield from the consequences of war, but I do prefer to give them a second chance at life.”

“If you leave them alive, there’s always a possibility it could come back to haunt you.” Olenna said ominously. 

“I have no problem with burning my enemies, Lady Olenna. The Lannisters will learn that quickly.” Dany said darkly. She turned back to Jon. “Why do a parley? We know what they’re coming for.” Daenerys asked him.

“Jaime Lannister does Cersei’s bidding and has killed many of my countrymen. I want to meet him face to face before he dies on the battlefield. I want him to know who is bringing him vengeance and justice.” Jon said, fire blazing in his eyes.

“Fire and Blood.” Daenerys said, her eyes meeting his in blazing glory. He nodded in return.

Jon broke the stare down first and looked at the rest of the room. It was good he did, any longer and she was sure she’d go up in flames. She took deep breaths to quell the rising lust pulsing between them. “I’ll be spending the next day with the Dothraki, making sure they’re fully prepared for battle against the Lannisters. I find it helps for them to see how men fight with swords as they don’t have much experience with it. You’re most welcome to join.” He said to Garlan, Horas, and Gareth. Gareth Fossoway nodded eagerly, the other two seemed a bit reluctant.

As the men left the room, Daenerys turned carefully to look at Olenna. Sure enough, the older woman was watching her closely.

“Your Grace, I was under the impression you are still seeking marriage alliances. But I am wondering why.” Olenna asked. Daenerys was about to protest when she spoke again. “You both look like you’re going to devour each other, my dear. I don’t blame you. He is quite the handsome man. Combine that with his position within House Targaryen, he’s quite the catch. If my Margaery were still alive, I’d kill any of her husbands to make her available for him. You’ll have your hands full trying to find him a bride.”

Daenerys stewed over her comment and fought her rising nausea as looked at her. Deciding to ignore the implications she focused instead on what she said about Margaery. “What do you mean, kill any of her husbands?”

Olenna took a sip of wine and then just looked at her seriously over her cup. “I was not going to allow my granddaughter to be married to that creature she called her second husband. Whatever you’ve heard about your father, trust me, Joffrey was just as bad. He was a cunt. He beat and killed women, and nearly destroyed Sansa Stark. I had no desire to see the wolves in power in King’s Landing, but I wouldn’t have wished her fate on anyone. I do hope she’s safe and well?”

Daenerys nodded. “I think so, she’s at Winterfell. She survived another terrible man by the name of Ramsay Bolton. According to Jon and Robb, she has no intention of ever leaving there.”

Olenna took another sip of wine. “Then she learned a valuable lesson.”

“What is that?” Daenerys asked.

“That no man will protect you, and you need to protect yourself.” Olenna said sharply. “I’m sure it’s a lesson you’ve learned Your Grace.”

“Unfortunately, yes.” Daenerys agreed.

After their conversation, Dany headed down to the Dothraki camp. She was met by several of her blood riders and Willas Tyrell. The man was attractive, if you got over the fact that he was all skin and bones. He had the head of curls that seemed to be the basic characteristic of the men in the Reach. He was probably the exact opposite of Jon physically. He stood much taller than her, had light blue eyes and blond hair, and always had a smile on his face. He did absolutely nothing for her. No heat was stirred, no fire started. All it took was one look at Jon and her entire body went into meltdown.

“Your Grace!” Willas said excitedly. “I know that many Westerosi are probably quite nervous about having the Dothraki on our shores...”

She nearly rolled her eyes. “That’s an understatement.” She said under her breath.

“...But I find them fascinating.” The young Lord continued. “I think the nomadic nature of their culture is a glimpse at all of our pasts, and it’s amazing that they’ve managed to maintain that culture. I’ll admit that they’re a bit brutish for my taste, I’m not a physical man, but I respect their fighting ability. Did you know that they practice with actual battle blades? No blunt weapons!”

Daenerys nodded at him. “The Dothraki believe if you’re going to fight someone, you’d better do it right. Have there been any other aspects of their culture you’ve found interesting?”

Willas blushed deeply. “They… umm, well they express their adoration for one another quite openly.”

Daenerys nearly laughed out loud at the Lord’s explanation of the Dothraki custom of fucking outdoors. She wondered if he knew that they respected a couple that screamed loudly during coupling. She almost asked him but thought he might have a heart attack.

“I also find it telling that they made their camp on this side of the castle.” Willas said thoughtfully. “Seeing as it is opposite of the battlefield. I don’t think anyone told them either that the armies would be approaching the other side of the castle.”

Daenerys nodded her head. “The Dothraki know what they are doing in battle and camping is a part of their lives. I find that it doesn’t take much direction to get them to be where they are needed. They seem to have a second sense about battle strategy.” She looked through the crowd distractedly.

The Dothraki were huddled closer together here, and she could hear the grunts of a fight. She pushed her way through, Willas following her closely and stopped short on the sight in front of her. Jon stood in the middle of a small group of Dothraki riders. They all had their arakhs out and he was holding his sword. They were all breathing heavily. Jon had said he was going to teach the Dothraki how to fight men in iron suits, but she didn’t expect to see him sparring. As she looked around though, she realized this was the only way for him to gain the respect needed in order to teach them. Daenerys stood with Willas on one side of her and Ser Gareth Fossoway on the other. She watched as two of the five moved toward him. He fought them off easily, moving fast, and the Dothraki were obviously growing frustrated. Finally, Chakko and Zhowo joined the Dothraki in the ring. Jon would be fighting the leaders of the camp. This would be huge if he could beat them both.

However, the Dothraki don’t fight fair. Ser Fossoway almost interrupted when two more Dothraki entered the ring. It was now nine on one. She grabbed Gareth’s arm and shook her head no. Jon needed to do this. Even if he lost, he would gain the respect of the horsemen. Jon straightened slightly and looked around at the circle of Dothraki around him. He drew his second sword. The wolf-pommeled sword in his dominant hand, and the dragon in the other. Then he looked at Chakko and nodded his head. The next few minutes were nothing short of mesmerizing. It was as if the entire fight was a choreographed dance. Jon flew in and out of the Dothraki, each arakh made contact with one of his swords. He disarmed three of them and they moved out of the way. After another few minutes of exchanges, Jon was obviously feeling fatigued. Instead of disarming the next two, he simply knocked them down to the ground. One by one the last four fell until it was Jon, down to one sword and Chakko. The final four riders had cut into Jon in several places. Jon’s fatigue got the best of him as Chakko simply swiped at Jon’s wrist, drawing blood and then slammed the base of his arakh into Jon’s head. Jon finally dropped his swords and bent over, spitting blood onto the ground.

Shouts and screams rent the air as Chakko and Jon separated from each other and smiled. Chakko leaned down and grabbed the dragon sword and handed it to Jon. Another Dothraki soldier was swinging Longclaw around behind Jon’s back. Jon had earned the respect of the older blood rider and therefore the whole khalasar. Then he turned, looking through the crowd until he found her. They made eye contact and it held. She’d never wanted anyone as much as she wanted him in that moment. Even with blood dripping from his arm and the obvious bruise forming on his head, he was still magnificent. It was broken by Willas Tyrell turning to her to say something, and a dark look manifested on Jon’s face. He turned quickly to grab his second sword and speak with the Dothraki.

***

Jaime Lannister was everything she expected him to be. Blond hair, green eyes and a look of haughty disdain for everyone around him. The men at his sides couldn’t be any different from one another. One was a stern looking older man dressed in full armor, the archer sigil stamped into every piece of his clothing. Randyll Tarly, she presumed. The young man next to him, also dressed in the same sigil must have been his son. The other side of the Lannister commander was dominated by a less prim and proper gentleman. He was introduced as Ser Bronn of the Blackwater. She knew from Tyrion’s stories that he was a former sellsword that kept close company with the Lannister family, who had promised him a large payout.

“Ser Jaime Lannister.” Daenerys began. She was flanked by Jon on one side and the knights of the Reach on the other. “You have a lot to answer for.”

Randyll Tarly was the one to make the first sound, scoffing at her words. “Says the queen with a bastard commander. A foreign whore comes to pillage our lands with savages.”

“The only one currently pillaging your lands is you, Lord Tarly.” Daenerys said with menace. “Or are the reports of your raiding the countryside these past weeks false?”

“The capital, and our Queen, needs the grain.” Tarly responded with a snarl. “I’ll not shirk my duties because Olenna decided to break with her honor.”

“Break with her honor?” Daenerys asked. “Cersei is the one who massacred her family in the Sept of Baelor.”

“It seems that the claim of your dragons and armies has been quite overexaggerated.” Jaime said sneeringly. “I don’t see either. Just the simpering knights of the Reach waiting to prove their mettle.”

Daenerys smirked at the commander. “Tell me, Ser Jaime, do you ever think about what you did to my family? Or to his?” She nodded over to Jon. “Is there a conscience in there at all?”

“I did what I had to do to protect my family and my people.” Jaime said. “Your father would have burned them all.”

“My father, yes. But my niece and nephew? Jon’s brother and sister? How do you account for the murder of babies? The rape of innocent women? Was that you protecting your family?” Daenerys asked harshly. “And now you’re here, trying to steal gold from an old woman whose family you have decimated.”

“Why are we here? Why did you want this parley?” Jaime asked her.

It was Jon that answered. “I wanted to get the measure of you before we met on the field. Not surprisingly, I’ve found you wanting. Only a few months ago I sat across from a madman at a parley, he was arrogant like you. And he lost, just like you’re going to.”

“The bastard pup of Winterfell, strange to see you here. Who would have thought all those years ago that this is where we’d meet next? Taking up where your brother left off.” Jaime chuckled. “Let’s see what you’ve made of these flower knights, Lord Commander.”

Jaime and his group turned away from them and rode back to their men. Daenerys turned to look at Jon. “Did you get what you needed?” He smirked and nodded. She could hear the other men chuckling as well. “What?” She asked.

“The Oakhearts abandoned them during the parley, Your Grace.” Ser Gareth Fossoway answered. “You could see them riding away from the main group. It was fucking hilarious. Here they are, talking with us, bragging away like we’ll be fodder for them when their men were deserting them as we spoke.”

She turned on her horse and looked at Jon as they rode up to the castle, past the Dothraki lying in wait in between the foothills. “You knew that they would leave?”

He shook his head. “Not really. I tried the same thing before the battle for Winterfell, but the northmen are a stubborn lot. I knew I might have a better chance with these ones. They’re not as hardheaded.”

“Either way, you’ve already saved hundreds of lives.” Daenerys said to him, impressed. He looked at her and nodded.

Jon and Daenerys split from the knights as they reached the force at the top of the hill. They continued on around to the other side of the keep where Drogon, Rhaegal, and Viserion were waiting. She could barely hear the horns of battle being blown from the Lannisters. The answering noise was much louder and more sinister. Thousands of hoof beats were accompanied by the screams of their riders. She could only imagine the looks on the faces of their enemies as the Dothraki hoard crested the hill toward them. She looked at Jon and both of them mounted their dragons. This would be a huge test for Jon and Rhaegal, flying so far had happened without much fuss, by flying into battle was a whole different challenge.

She issued the command, and Drogon took to the air, Rhaegal and Viserion following. She flew up over the keep into the low cloud cover. Below her she could see the Reach knights watching from their high perch as the Dothraki rode out to meet the Lannister forces. Jaime Lannister and Randyll Tarly were riding up and down the lines, issuing commands to their men. She could see the supplies they had stolen from the Reach, along with their camping equipment in the caravan placed a way behind them. They didn’t want to burn the grain, it was sorely needed, but they did want to take out any supplies the Lannisters might use to recover after the battle.

Daenerys urged Drogon into a dive. All three dragons let out roars as they plunged out of the clouds and into view of the Lannister army. She and Drogon took the center line down the field, flying low over the Dothraki. On her left was Viserion, following his larger brother. On her right was Rhaegal, following the commands of Jon as they flew in tight formation over their army. Ahead of her she could see the Lannister army, shields covering their bodies and spears pointed out in a phalanx position, trying to ward off the riders. They needed to break the line to allow the Dothraki to fight hand to hand. She focused on the center while the other two dragons took either side. It was time to give the Lannisters fire and blood.

“Dracarys.” She commanded. Drogon spewed flame at the center of the line, men screaming and burning immediately. On her left, Viserion also opened up the line and on her right Jon and Rhaegal took out the right flank. Daenerys revelled in the feeling of the flames below her. She quickly started to smell the stench of burning flesh. Horrified screams and shouts rent the air. She looked up and saw Viserion flying high above them, canvassing the area for threats. Jon and Rhaegal were corralling the forces into one area, burning the land around them, avoiding burning large groups of men. She could see Jon struggling on Rhaegal’s back, obviously trying to see around the dragon’s large head and probably fighting the dragon’s rampaging nature.

The Dothraki moved through what was left of the Lannister’s line with ease. Their horses met the standing men with little to no resistance. The infantry didn’t stand a chance and were practically mowed down. She saw below as Chakko took out two Lannisters from horseback before he dismounted and started fighting blade to blade. She watched as several Dothraki fell to the archers releasing arrows into the oncoming stampede. Horses screamed as they were taken down by spears or struck by arrows. The Dothraki just kept flowing over the Lannister forces. They had the numbers on their side. Jaime had brought a relatively small force to take Highgarden, expecting Olenna and her house to simply roll over. The sheer difference in their army size was astounding. She wanted this to be a firm, decisive victory, and it would be.

She flew back toward the supply line. Avoiding the part of the train that included the food, she moved Drogon down the line of wagons. His fire rained down on the wagons and the men surrounding them. The force of the fire had the wagons exploding. Debris flew into the air around her as she flew over the line. Every wagon she destroyed was another testament to her rage and desire for vengeance and justice. Every bout of flame was another of her family’s enemies gone. She urged Drogon to fly higher, banking to come around for another pass. Smoke filled the air around her from the burning bodies and ground below.

As she came around, she saw several men in a tight formation, all looking up at her. Jaime Lannister was among them. She flattened herself against Drogon’s back and they dove down toward them. They were archers with bows and arrows pointed up at her. At the last minute, Drogon turned taking the brunt of the arrows in his chest, where his heaviest scales were. They all ricocheted off the dragon and she wasn’t hit, but it made her realize quickly how bad it could be. Viserion screamed his fury at the attack on his mother and brother and dove in for an attack. The men scrambled and the fire only managed to take out two or three.

Many of the men were moving toward the lake nearby, seeking relief from the flames. She could see Jon and Rhaegal still off to the side, corralling more and more men from escape. Most were now surrounded by a wall of flame put there by Rhaegal. The battle below was quickly turning into chaos. The Lannister men who had been burned were running around without direction, spreading the flames. The Dothraki continued to finish off the Lannister men still fighting. There was no semblance of a line any longer and the only unit that stood in formation were the archers commanded by Jaime. Having successfully finished his duties with a large chunk of the men, Jon led Rhaegal back over the main battle. All three dragons looped around the battlefield, revelling in the chaos they had created. She and Drogon flew over the lake, raising water around them as they flew hard. She could see the glint off of Jaime’s armor. She had one goal. “Dracarys.” She issued again. Somehow the man managed to avoid the flames yet again. Drogon was agitated that he missed his goal. They circled yet again and came around.

Out of nowhere, Drogon turned sharply narrowly missing the large bold that had been fired at him. She looked down and saw the contraption, a large ballista down below. Drogon called out a warning to his brothers as she turned to take out the machine. Daenerys and Drogon moved to take it head on, diving towards it, when the bolt was released. It struck Drogon in the shoulder and he let out a painful screech. He started to fall from the sky, and she held on for dear life. She heard Jon’s shout on the wind “Dany!”. As he moved Rhaegal to intercept them. She quickly thought to call him out on the use of the nickname later. Rhaegal helped slow Drogon’s descent as he fell out of the air and let him go to land on the edge of the lake. As they landed, she came face to face with the large bolt propeller. Before she could give Drogon the command, the device went up in flames, a ferocious Viserion blasting it. A snarling Drogon speared his tail through the ruins of the machine and roared at the scrambling men.

Daenerys dismounted carefully, trying to avoid the wound in his shoulder. She worked at pulling the bolt free while several Dothraki surrounded her for protection from the enemy men. All fight had gone out of them anyway. She looked up to see the knights of the Reach riding in, helping to lead the surviving men to the large force Jon had corralled to the side of the field. She saw the Tarly men among them. There were questions and commands being screamed out in Dothraki and the common tongue. Jon landed Rhaegal and walked over to her as the green dragon joined Viserion back in the sky. The two dragons were circling the field no doubt guarding their injured brother. A commotion started as Ser Horas Redwyne and Ser Gareth Fossoway rode toward them. They had won the battle, but Jaime Lannister and Bronn of the Blackwater were nowhere to be found.


	15. Jon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Daenerys deal with the aftermath of the battle. Randyll Tarly meets a dragon. Victory celebrations lead to some surprising revelations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Sunday again friends!!
> 
> Thank you to AbstractlySydney for all of your help with this chapter!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has left comments or kudos. Please know that while I appreciate everyone who leaves a comment, I don't appreciate ones that are particularly mean spirited, if you don't like what I'm writing, you don't have to read it. Most of you have been really lovely, so thank you. And if you are leaving critiques, they're welcomed if respectful. Thank you so much!!

Jon was uneasy as he walked the ruins of the battlefield. It was one thing to know you have dragons in your arsenal and another thing altogether to see the aftermath of using them. Piles of ash that were once men were lying in all sorts of positions. One was curled up under his shield, another flat on his stomach, as if caught running away, and yet more often they were nothing but unrecognizable piles of grey dust. This is what they needed for the army of the dead, but to use them against the living, that didn’t sit well with him. He knew the familiar call of bloodlust. He’d been in the heat of battle killing one man after another, but at least then the men had a chance to surrender. That was why he had corralled off a large group of men during the battle. He and Daenerys might be bonded with the beasts, but they had urges beyond their control.

He thought back to the moment he thought might have been the end of the Dragon Queen. Watching Drogon get hit by the bolt then start plummeting with no direction back to the earth was terrifying. On top of that, she had almost been hit by arrows on multiple occasions. They were going to have to fix these problems before King’s Landing. He had seen the large ballistae on the walls of King’s Landing but hadn’t imagined they’d brought a portable one with them. His heart was still in his throat thinking about Drogon’s scream and her terrified shout. He was pretty sure he had yelled at her, calling her Dany as she dropped. He wasn’t sure where the nickname had come from, just that he needed to call out to her fast. Luckily, he and Rhaegal had been of the same mindset, and Viserion had been available to clean up behind them. He shuddered to think of what could have happened had she been alone.

He watched as the Dothraki pillaged the bodies. They took armor and weapons. They led any surviving men toward the larger group of survivors. They would be taken before the queen to meet their fate. He didn’t fault her. He knew the price the Lannister men would pay. It was why he tried to persuade some before the parley. Maybe a man who hadn’t been in battle before might have been shaken by the ferociousness of her attack, but he just found it respectable. He could only imagine what Tyrion would say if he were here. Tyrion liked the idea of planning battles and sitting far off as they were fought. He might understand the necessity for them, but Tyrion didn’t understand this, the aftermath. The feeling of guilt and shame that commanders carry all their lives after the battle is won. Even in the face of victory, there is defeat in knowing you’ve killed men just performing their duties. He had seen Tyrion try and warn off Daenerys from fighting the armies with her dragons. There was a reason he suggested the strategy of Dorne and the Reach laying siege to King’s Landing. Tyrion doesn’t know how to handle the warrior queen and Jon thought it was one of his largest downfalls as her Hand.

He shook his head out of this train of thought and mounted the horse Ser Gareth had brought for him. The young knight looked terrified and flabbergasted at the result of the battle. It was obvious that despite the many tourneys held in the Reach, true battles were few and far between. He looked pale as Jon observed him.

“Is it always like this?” Gareth asked with a shaky voice.

“Like what?” Jon asked in return.

“I’ve always heard tales of glory from battle.” Gareth spoke as they began to ride toward Daenerys. “As if you are forever enshrined in the halls of your father for doing your duty. But what does duty really get you other than death under your shield? And for what? Someone’s claim to the throne?”

“Do you not believe that Queen Daenerys should be on the throne?” Jon asked curiously.

“I think she’ll do fine enough. At least with you there to temper her.” Gareth looked at him seriously. “You have the cooler head for sure and are the natural commander, the natural leader.”

“Ser Gareth, Daenerys is the queen by right. I have no ambition to be anything other than what she needs me to be.”

Gareth nodded. “And as long as you are with her, Your Grace, I will always follow House Targaryen.”

Jon took a deep breath but didn’t respond. Davos had tried to warn him. People, particularly men, were always more comfortable with a male ruler. They felt that females could be too volatile. Maybe they were right. Looking at the carnage left behind by the dragons and the mess that is the capital there was plenty of evidence for that conclusion. But he always felt that human emotion was on a spectrum no matter your sex. Daenerys wasn’t Cersei, just like he wasn’t Joffrey. He believed in Daenerys. He knew who she was at her core and what she could accomplish with the right support. He was determined to provide that as long as she’d let him. He would bow to her as Queen for the rest of his life. They rode up to where Daenerys stood looking out at the captured men. All three dragons were behind her, Drogon in the middle being protected by his brothers.

There were at least two thousand captured men surrounded by Dothraki guards. At the front of the gathering stood Daenerys. She was flanked by Lord Garlan, Ser Horas Redwyne, Chakko, and Zhowo. It was unusual to see her in the company of her Dothraki without Qhono. He had become a familiar and welcome presence. He and the Dothraki blood rider had sparred frequently during his weeks at Dragonstone and it was him that taught Jon the small bit of Dothraki he could manage. He did like Zhowo though, he seemed to have a similar sense of humor as Qhono and had taken to learning the common tongue. Jon had seen him speaking to Willas Tyrell several times. The Dothraki that had been present for the match Jon had fought against many of the Dothraki the day before had started calling him  _ lajak haj _ , which meant strong warrior. Jon had a great deal of affection for the “savages'' as they reminded him quite a bit of the Free Folk. With the Dothraki, strength was rewarded and he felt that was a good reflection of what Daenerys stood for.

He rode with Ser Gareth until they reached her just below the dragons’ nest. Daenerys smiled up at him and he couldn’t help but return it. She was so beautiful, even with soot from the battle covering her nearly head to toe. He dismounted and took his place at her right hand side. She stood on a rock outcropping in front of Drogon. “What do I do with them, Jon, what choice do I offer these men?”

Jon was humbled that she asked his opinion. He knew that in her world it was live by her rules or die, that was most likely the choice she would give them. Her life had taught her hard lessons, and there was little compassion for the enemy in her. He was grateful he could offer her counsel. “We don’t have much of a choice to give them, Your Grace. We’re fighting a war here and a war up North. I understand if you choose not to give them the chance to live, but I hope you can find a solution that does.” Some might say he was too compassionate, but the truth was, he didn’t like to see unnecessary death. Jon watched her as she weighed options in her head. It was her decision what to do with the men and he would stand by it.

She met his eyes before turning to the thousands of men in front of her. The two thousand Lannister soldiers captured, covered in soot. The hundreds of Reach knights that sat on their horses, many without a single scratch, their armor still shining in the late day sun. The Dothraki that haven’t returned to camp yet, looking eager to leave. She would address them all together.

“I know what Cersei has told you.” She said strongly. “That I have come to destroy your cities, burn down your homes, murder you and orphan your children.” Many men in the crowd were looking at her nervously, looking at each other nervously. “I’m not here to murder, and all I’m here to destroy is the wheel that has rolled over rich and poor to the benefit of no one but the Cersei Lannisters of the world. The wheel that keeps you on the battlefield and away from your families.” She paused for a long moment and many of the prisoners looked up at her. “Bend the knee and join me. Together we will leave the world a better place than we found it. We will stop the atrocities Cersei and Jaime Lannister commit, and we will save our people from the army of the dead that marches in the North.” She paused for a long moment. “Or refuse and die.”

A slow trickle of men started to kneel, but many held their ground. Daenerys stepped forward, expanding her plea. “This is the best offer you’re going to get. If we didn’t have another war to fight, if the dead weren’t coming for us, we’d likely let you go home, but we don’t have that option. I know you’re tired. I know you want the fighting to be over. Kneel now and help us end it all so you can go home in peace.” Many more bent the knee to them. Drogon was impatient and roared at the men still standing. Most dropped to their knees.

The few that were left standing included Randyll Tarly. Jon nearly growled at the hard man. His men remained standing behind him. “Step forward, my lord.” Daenerys said. Tarly moved through the kneeling ranks until he stood directly before Daenerys. “You will not kneel?” She asked the man.

“I already have a queen.” He said staunchly.

Daenerys turned and gave orders to the Dothraki, then repeated them for the men of the Vale. “Take the surrendered men to be fed and give them a place to camp. Guard them diligently, desertion will be rewarded with dragon fire. Lord Garlan, Ser Horas, will you please take Lord Tarly and his men up to Highgarden so that we can determine their fate.”

The army sprung into motion. The Reach men collected Randyll Tarly and his men and started the long trek up to Highgarden. The Dothraki circled the kneeling men and led them on the plains toward the other side of the keep. It left Jon and Daenerys alone with the dragons.

“I’m going to have to kill them.” Daenerys said. “I know that it’s just stubbornness, but I can’t let them go.” She looked up at him with her big purple eyes. “I want Olenna to witness it. She needs to know how I handle those who refuse to yield.”

“Those are the decisions we have to make when we choose to lead.” Jon answered. “I won’t tell you how to handle this. It’s not my place.”

“No, I suppose it’s not.” Daenerys said with a sigh. It went unspoken that had they chosen to be together it would have been his place to contribute more. For now, he was simply her heir and under her command.

They settled into silence as they said goodbye to the dragons and mounted their horses for the long ride up the hill. When they arrived, Lady Olenna and her grandsons stood on a balcony overlooking the courtyard where Lord Tarly and his men had been placed. Jon watched as Daenerys squared her shoulders and entered the space. He followed dutifully behind her.

She stood regally in front of the captured men with the Reach knights surrounding them. Olenna, Garlan, and Willas stood to their backs and Jon stood behind Daenerys slightly. Viserion circled lazily in the air above them. Drogon and Rhaegal were likely nesting somewhere on the ground. Jon took a moment to study the courtyard. It was beautifully carved out of light stone and covered with vines and flowers. It was peaceful, but Jon suspected it wouldn't be for much longer.

“Lord Randyll Tarly.” Daenerys began. “You have pillaged the Reach for their resources and terrorized its people. You betrayed your liege lord’s house and have refused to yield. These are all crimes punishable by death.”

“You can’t sentance me to death.” Lord Tarly sneered at her. “You are not my Queen.”

“Cersei wasn’t your queen until recently though, was she?” Daenerys asked, snarling. “Not until she murdered your rightful queen, the daughter of your liege lord. Are your allegiances so easily swayed Tarly?”

“There are no easy choices in war.” Randyll replied. “Say what you want about Cersei, she was born in Westeros. She’s lived here all her life. You on the other hand? You’re a foreign queen with a bastard pretending to be the Prince of Dragonstone.”

“Aye, I was raised a bastard, and yet I seem to have more honor than you.” Jon said scathingly. “And Cersei has lived here all her life, and yet she treats everyone as if they were disposable. How long, Lord Tarly, until your family is sitting in a home that you’ve been invited to under guest rite and your whole family is murdered? The Lannisters are poison, and you’re helping to spread it.”

“Better the devil you know.” Lord Tarly said hard and cold. “I’d take the lions over a foreign invader with an army full of savages.”

“An army of savages that just protected this land from you.” Daenerys said, drawing the attention back to her. Jon was frustrated. There was no arguing with the man, no making him see reason. He could see how Sam ended up at the Wall. This man had no give, no compassion. He was bound by his pride.

“You will not trade your honor for your life. I respect that.” Daenerys said, also realizing the conversation was fruitless. She nodded at Lord Tarly and then looked to Ser Gareth Fossoway and his men. They moved Randyll Tarly further from the men behind him. A shadow moved across the courtyard. Instinctively everyone looked up to see Viserion circling closer to the castle.

“You will have to kill me too.” Came a voice from behind the prisoner, drawing their gazes back to the courtyard.

“Step back and shut your mouth.” Tarly snarled at the younger man.

“What is your name?” Daenerys said to the younger man.

“Dickon Tarly, son of Randyll Tarly.” Dickon said, standing proudly before her. Jon felt a sense of panic well up. He had no qualms about killing Randyll, he believed the man deserved it for multiple reasons. But Dickon was a young man, the future of his house, and by all accounts a decent man, led astray by his prideful father. “I am not here to end families, Lord Dickon. You are the future of your house. Please don’t do this, please stand back.” Daenerys asked pleadingly, looking at the young man with sympathy. Even Randyll nodded to his son, encouraging him to submit.

“I will not.” The younger man said. Jon could see Daenerys square her shoulders, ready to call out the order. Panic set in for Jon. He could never explain the death of Dickon to Sam. His best friend would understand Randyll’s death but not his brother’s.

“Dickon, this is no longer about honor, but pride. Your father wants to die with his. That’s his choice. But you don’t have to.” Jon said strongly. “I’m tired of watching people die for their pride. You fought and you lost. Submit.”

“I gave him a choice. It was fair one, he has made it.” She said clearly for all to hear. Jon practically growled at her. “Wait.” Jon said. He didn’t miss the flash of fire in her eyes directed at him.

He walked forward toward the younger Tarly and stood face to face with him. “Your brother Sam is my best friend. I can’t look him in the eye and tell him what happened here if you allow yourself to be killed. Queen Daenerys made you a fair offer, and I will stand by any decision she makes, but you have a family that needs you. You have a duty to be better, to do better.”

“Would you stand by and let your father burn alone?” Dickon asked him.

“I wouldn’t have to.” Jon said. “My father chose his family over his pride, over his honor. They killed him anyway, in front of his daughters. Daenerys wouldn’t do that. Had he submitted, your father would be spared.”

Dickon searched his eyes for a long moment before he finally relented. He nodded, and Jon grasped his shoulder and pulled him away from his father. He looked back up at Daenerys, she looked mutinous and he knew he was in for a fight with her later.

She turned to Randyll who was standing on his own, the knights of the Reach and the Tarly men had been moved under the cover of the balconies. “Lord Randyll Tarly, I Daenerys of House Targaryen, Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons, sentence you to die.” She paused looking at him, and then looked up at Viserion above her. “Dracarys.” Viserion reared back and then let out a stream of fire that engulfed the older man. He screamed for a moment and then shortly after melted into the ground. Jon held up Dickon as he watched his father become consumed in the flames.

The rest of the prisoners flinched and they bent their heads in submission. The knights surrounding the group of soldiers moved in but Daenerys shook her head. She turned to Ser Gareth instead. “Will you take the prisoners to get cleaned up and fed? They’ll need to be ready to march in the next day or so.” Gareth nodded and the Reach knights surrounded the prisoners, including the dejected Dickon Tarly, taking them outside to those that had already surrendered.

Jon looked up on the balcony. Lady Olenna was looking at Daenerys with pride in her eyes and nodded to her queen resolutely. She and her grandsons moved back into the castle and Jon looked down at Daenerys.

They stood and looked at each other for a long time. The tension of the day simmering between them. Jon couldn’t tell if it was their normal tension or more from him actively saying something contrary to her plans in front of others that was building.

“Jon.” She said indecisively. “We need to talk.”

***

The conversation between them would have to wait until later. A servant had just arrived to urge them to make their way to the feast. Jon never understood why there always needed to be a feast after a battle. Sure, it was great for morale, but usually hundreds or thousands of men were dead. Gods, he was morose. He even felt his face turn to its usual scowl. Jon and Daenerys met up with the Dothraki who were going to attend the feast. Most of them would celebrate down in their camp, but a select few had been invited to the keep. Among them were Chakko and Zhowo, the two main leaders of the Dothraki forces. Both had proved their mettle on the field. All of the sudden, he remembered something important.

“Shouldn’t we be out looking for Jaime Lannister?” He asked Daenerys. “I can’t believe he escaped the end of the battle.”

Daenerys looked at him darkly. “Someone needs to tell Cersei what happened here. Let him run back and tell her.”

“Olenna won’t appreciate that.” Jon said. “I think she was looking forward to skinning him alive.” He said with a smirk.

She smiled back at him. It was the first time she had looked at him favorably since they had executed Tarly and argued about Dickon. “She’ll have to learn to live without. Maybe when we’re all done with Cersei, we can send him back here in chains.” She chuckled.

“Dany.” Jon started. “I know we have to talk, but first before we go into this feast, I need to know that we’re alright.”

Daenerys raised her eyebrows at him. “Where did this nickname come from? The last person who called me Dany was Viserys. He’s not the company you want to keep.” She said warningly.

He bowed his head and blushed. “I’m sorry, I just needed something shorter to get your attention when we were on the dragons, and I guess I’ve just thought of you as ‘Dany’ for a while now. You’ll never hear it from me again, promise.”

She looked at him as they walked through the hallways with the Dothraki for a long moment. “I don’t mind it, in fact, I think I rather like it coming from you. Just don’t do it in company.” She ended with a stern look that was softened by the laughter in her eyes. “We’re alright Jon. We have a lot we need to work out, but we’re together on this.”

He nodded at her gratefully and sent her a small smile. He knew she was still frustrated and angry but he appreciated that she was willing to go into the feast with a united front. His interaction with Dickon had been more out of his own fear than questioning her leadership, but he knew what it looked like. It was dangerous to show any sort of discord between them.

Olenna Tyrell had set up quite the feast. The Lannister and Tarly prisoners were out in their camp, cleaning up and eating bread and cheese. But inside, the victors feasted on meats and cheeses, and light root vegetables. The Arbor Gold was flowing freely and even though Jon still missed his ale, he did find his tongue was loosening up. A few hours later, he found himself laughing with the rowdy Dothraki and looking around the room. He noticed the effect the drink was having on Daenerys, or Dany as she allowed him to call her.

Her eyes were brighter than usual, her grin just slightly wider, and her hair had long fallen out of her Dothraki victory braid. She looked relaxed and happy. The only time he’d seen her close to this was during their nightly cyvasse games. For weeks he had spent one on one time with her and learned what made her laugh and what she held dear. She looked at her Dothraki affectionately. He supposed he had a similar look for the Free Folk. Watching men that had been labelled ‘savages’ truly engage with the more civilized Westerosi. Right now, Zhowo was drinking Ser Gareth under the table as they squared off in a drinking competition. Chakko was currently arm wrestling a rather bulky knight, but still won easily. It was all so jovial, and despite his normal brooding nature he found himself happy as well.

Until he saw Willas Tyrell lean over to say something in Dany’s ear. Jon saw red. The first night they had arrived in Highgarden Jon had been told all about Olenna’s plan to marry off Willas to the Queen. He had tried really hard to like the man after that, but it was nearly impossible. Every time the young man said something even vaguely clever or funny Jon had wanted to punch him in the face. There really was nothing wrong with the man, but the idea that he’d have to watch as he married the woman Jon loved was infuriating. It also didn’t help that Daenerys obviously enjoyed his company. Jon turned away from the high table and toward the men he had chosen to sit with.

About an hour later, Dany came to find him. He had delved into his cups even further at that point, but she looked the opposite, as if something had sobered her up fast. She grabbed his arm and turned him to face her. “We need to go tour the Dothraki camp.” She said seriously, looking deep into his eyes obviously trying to convey some deeper meaning to him. His wine-addled brain couldn’t quite comprehend what she was trying to tell him.

They walked, joined by the Dothraki in the hall, down the hill to the large Dothraki camp. He could see the tents stretching over the valley below as far as he could see. There was a large tent in the middle that he knew was set up for Daenerys. As they walked through camp, he could hear the raucous laughs of the victors. More than once he saw two men fighting with their arakhs. And then there was the coupling. He could see the Dothraki men pick up the closest woman and just start fucking her in the light of the fire. The grunts from the small battles and the rigorous coupling added to the excited noise in the camp. He saw the large pyres in the distance, no doubt for the fallen warriors. Dany led him to her tent and bid the Dothraki guards to go enjoy the celebration. They entered the large central tent and finally they were alone.

Daenerys’s tent in the Dothraki camp was surprisingly furnished. A table was set low to the ground filled with carafes of drink and a plate of meat. Her bed, a large pile of furs, sat in the corner of the tent and looked very comfortable. The other side of the tent from the bed was occupied by a series of large woven baskets, storage for something. He turned to look at her. “Why did we come down here?” He asked, still trying to sober up.

“The castle’s walls have ears.” Daenerys said seriously. “Those ears are much less likely to follow us into the middle of the Dothraki camp.”

Jon took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “This isn’t fair, you know.” He said to her. “I’m too drunk and sleepy to have the conversation we need to.”

“Well, you need to wake the fuck up because this is the only time we’re going to have.” Dany said harshly.

Jon felt the familiar smolder of his inner dragon spring to life. He never burned hotter than when he was with her. Something about the Targaryen blood seemed to fire them up around each other. He saw the answering fire in her eyes as she watched him. “I have some things to say to you about how you handled things after the battle.” Daenerys said.

Jon snorted. “Well, I have some things to say about how you handled things during the battle.”

“Okay then.” She said. “Let’s hear it.”

“Dany, it was incredibly stupid of both of us to assume that we are safe on the back of our dragons.” She looked taken aback. “This is about safety?” She asked softly.

“Not just safety. There’s much more to say, but yes, I’m concerned that you’re not safe enough.” He took a deep breath. “Dany any one of those arrows shot at you today could’ve killed you. Then where would we be? This is your fight, your vision of a new world. The dragons are mostly bonded to you, we don’t know what they would do if you were killed.” She went to go interrupt, but he continued. “Then there’s the dragons themselves! Drogon fell from the sky today. He was struck and he fell. Between those horrid contraptions and Euron’s fucking dragon horn, the dragons are not as invincible as we might have thought.”

“They’re my sons! Do you think I’m not concerned for their safety?” Daenerys asked.

“I think that you are so used to them being the biggest, baddest creatures in the world that you forget that they are still living things with weaknesses.” Jon shot back. “You need to wear armor Dany, and maybe they need some too.”

“We don’t even know if they’d be able to fly with armor Jon.” She argued.

“Well, it’s worth a try. We should have Gendry make them some out of Valyrian steel, it’s a lighter metal.” Jon said thoughtfully. “And you need armor too. You went up just wearing your normal dress, not even quilted material!”

“Why do you even care about whether or not I’m protected?” Daenerys sneered at him.

He leaned back. Shock hit every inch of his body. Whatever drink was left in his system seemed to evaporate into thin air. “What do you mean ‘why do I care’? Dany I’m fucking here for  _ you _ ! I could’ve and probably should’ve gone home to Winterfell with Robb. My fight is in the North against our true enemy. I’m here to help you win the Seven Kingdoms because you’re our best shot. That was the deal.”

“So that’s all you care about? The North?” She asked him, nearly screaming now. “All of these stupid men who were just willing to drop everything for you today and you’d still leave it all behind to go North. Do you even notice that most of the men were looking at you like a savior today?”

“Someone had to be!” Jon screamed back.

This time she froze, the breath in her lungs just stopped. “What do you mean?” She asked softly.

Her tone hit him hard. He had struck a nerve in this fiery woman. “Daenerys. You came in with fire and blood today, and I know that that’s what we agreed upon, but you also came with no give. You would have burned a foolish but largely innocent son today. One that was just following the example of his father. You burned men during the battle instead of trying to corral them. I saw the look in your eye when you and Drogon landed. You were ready to burn the world.” He sighed hard. “I know that you want to build a better world. I love your vision of it, but you’re all fire and it scares people. They don’t trust you because of it.”

He looked at her pleadingly, hoping she would see that he meant well, that he was trying to help. “Do you think I can’t see that Jon? I fear becoming my father all the time. It’s the one true fear I have. I just get so lost in the fire that sometimes I can’t think straight. I need people like you, like Tyrion and Missandei who temper me. I know that. But it doesn’t help that you are a legitimate Targaryen, the true heir to the throne and you seem to be able to temper yourself just fine.”

Jon took a deep breath as he realized that she felt inferior to him. “Dany, you are the Queen. I want you to be the Queen. You’re so much more than I could ever be. You take all that fire and make it manifest, you make it real, you make magic real. I was raised a wolf, Dany.” Jon said. “I didn’t even recognize the dragon when it first popped up. It scared me. Up until I met you, I thought the rage and anger would consume me. I may appear cool and collected on the outside, but that fire is there for me as well.”

“What do we do then? Because most of those men out there don’t want me as a queen and they’d be perfectly fine with you as King.” He started to protest but she waved him off. “I know you don’t want it, and I believe you when you say it, but there will always be those who want you over me.”

“And there are those that want you over me. The Dothraki and Unsullied may respect me, but they’ll never follow me without you. Arianne and Olenna made their alliances with you. Hell, they’re already planning your fucking marriage.” Jon said, the rage at Willas Tyrell resurfacing.

She looked confused. “What are you talking about? No one has mentioned marriage to me. I thought that would all get figured out after the wars.”

“So you’re telling me you haven’t noticed Willas Tyrell hanging on your every word? That Tyrion wasn’t pushing Robb at you while I was away?” His breath started coming in short bursts and he leaned closer to her as his rage pushed up.

“And what about you? Just yesterday Olenna was telling me that if Margaery were still alive, she’d kill any of her granddaughter’s husbands to get her married to you!” She fired back, her eyes blazing. “You think I don’t see how women look at you with your perfect face and body?”

“Why the fuck are we doing this then, Dany?” Jon asked her harshly. “Why are we planning to marry other people if it’s going to be like this?”

“I don’t fucking know anymore!” She shouted. “I used to think it was so important that you have children because I couldn’t but…”

“Except you really don’t know that.” Jon said back. “And even if it is true, what better way to start your new world than to start a new succession rule? If our family history has taught us anything it’s that familial inheritance may not always be best! I never expected to be a father. First, it was because I was a bastard, and I didn’t want my children to deal with that or leave another bastard behind. Then, it was my vows to the Night’s Watch. I would love to give you children because you want them, but I could really care less if I have them or not.”

“Then what do you want Jon?” Dany asked. “What does your perfect new world look like?”

He broke. There was no other word for it. He just couldn’t take not touching her for one more minute. One arm snaked out wrapping around her waist and his other hand grabbed her chin, tilting her face towards his. “The world couldn’t possibly be perfect if I don’t have you.” He dropped his mouth to hers and kissed her for the first time in weeks. His knees went weak as he tasted her once again.

She responded immediately, shoving her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, nails digging deep. Their tongues battled for dominance, sliding against each other in their mouths. Jon tried to pull away, to confirm what they were doing, but as he backed off, she bit his lip and drug him back to her. He groaned and sank into her.

After several minutes they finally leaned back to take deep gulping breaths. “What are we doing?” Dany asked.

“We’re loving each other. Just like I think we were always meant to.” Jon responded.

“How do you know that?” She asked him, uncertain.

“Because I’ve been dreaming of you too.” Jon answered, thinking back to their very first one on one conversation that second night at Dragonstone. She had confessed that she believed he was a Targaryen because of her dreams, and now he confessed that they were made for each other because of his.

Every part of Daenerys melted at the confession. Her eyes, her body, she was suddenly softer and more pliant than she’d ever been before. Her hands framed his face and she leaned in to kiss him. It was less frantic than their earlier ones. Her lips were soft against his and her tongue gently searched his mouth. It didn’t take long for the sentiment to fade into their mutual fire. They went up in flames together.

Dany started tearing at his gorget, unclasping the leather buckles on either shoulder. He pulled it off once she had it loose and then they started on the next layer. His belt and swords fell hurriedly to the floor of the tent with a large clang. He didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything except for getting both of their clothes off as fast as possible. They removed his thick layers of leather and quilted material in between frantic kisses. Neither one of them could get enough. Daenerys pulled his hair loose from its bun and Jon could feel it spring wildly around his head.

She giggled. “You look so much younger with your hair loose. Not at all the rough battle commander I know you to be.”

He was dazed by the smile on her face and the light in her purple eyes. “I want to see your hair down. All of it.” He said.

She shook her head. “Missandei’s not here to redo it in the morning.”

“One of the Dothraki can’t?” He asked pleadingly. She relented at the searching look on his face and turned around. It was more complicated than he could have imagined as he started running his fingers through her braids. At one point he got impatient and pulled a little too hard and she reached over her shoulder and pinched his hand. While he was busy undoing her hair, she was busy undoing her clothing. The chain held to her shoulder by her dragon pin fell from her body, the cloak it held following as well. She took off her outer thick wool dress and he swallowed.

As he saw the much thinner garment underneath her coat he suddenly was filled with nerves. Dany was only his second lover. He had never left Ygritte unsatisfied, but maybe Dany’s needs were different. When he finally finished taking out her braids and running his hands through her beautiful moonlit hair, he took a moment to hug her around the waist from behind, setting his chin on her shoulder. “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything Dany. I don’t want to fuck this up.”

She spun around slowly in his arms and they faced each other. The heat from earlier had cooled slightly but with the sight of her in her thin dress the fire started again inside Jon. “The only way you fuck this up Jon is if you don’t get undressed in the next ten seconds.” She laughed.

He grabbed her by the back of the head and pulled her in for another kiss. They were back to frantically kissing, biting each other and scoring each other with their nails. She was whining softly after every kiss and finally her patience gave out. She broke away and pulled at her boots. He did the same, but something knocked him off balance. Whether it was the drink from earlier or his eagerness to get at her, he ended up hopping around on one food trying to take his boot off. Daenerys was laughing uproariously. She sobered immediately when he was done and down to just his thin shirt and his breeches. She stepped up close and pulled the garment over his head. She gasped loudly and her fingers touched his chest.

“Shit.” He said. He’d forgotten to explain the scars and what she would see when she saw his naked chest.

She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “Robb said something about similar scars, but I didn’t understand. I still don’t. Jon, how did you survive this?”

“I didn’t.” He said simply. “I can’t explain except to tell you that I laid dead for two days before Melisandre brought me back. I still don’t really understand how or why.”

“I can’t speak to the how, but I know why.” She said looking at him with purpose. “You came back for me, because I needed you. And I really need you now.”

He groaned and wrapped his arms around her, devouring her mouth. He bunched up her thin shift and pulled it over her head. He gasped as he looked down at her naked form. She was perfect. Her breasts were full and round, more than a handful. Her nipples peaked in excitement. Her skin was milky white and blemish free. Her tucked in waist was small emphasizing the flare of her hips. The triangle of silver curls between her thighs was glistening with drops of arousal. He quickly dropped his pants and watched her eyes heat at the sight of him.

He drew her close again and kissed her. Reaching down with one hand, he moved his hand between her legs. Jon’s fingers stroked a long caress in the damp folds he found there. She jumped slightly but then pushed closer into him, moaning into his mouth as he touched her. Jon moved her arms around her neck. She took the hint and helped him as he picked her up to carry her to the pile of furs in the corner. He laid her back on the bed and knelt between her legs. He leaned down and gave her a quick kiss on the mouth and then backed off. She reached for him, trying to force him down to cover her. He wasn’t ready yet.

He leaned down and licked one nipple, using his teeth to add an edge to the sensation. He caressed and pinched the other. After lavishing one breast with attention from his mouth he moved to the other. She was squirming, moving her hips restlessly as he worked her nipples. The movement of her hips against him was making him eager to be inside her, but he wasn’t done with her yet. To keep her from over exciting him, he finally grabbed her hips to still her and speared her with a dark look. She met his eyes with hers desperately.

Her hands were in his hair, pulling him closer. He resisted and leaned down to nip at her belly button. He licked and kissed his way closer to her entrance. He pushed one of his thick calloused fingers inside her slowly. Immediately her muscles clenched around him, soft, firm, and hot. His own body went into meltdown. Her hips pushed forward impatiently, and she whispered his name. He sunk another thick finger into her, wanting her to be ready for him. Her sheath pulsed for him, pushing and pulling at his fingers. He fed the hunger by continuing to move his fingers into her. He looked up at her face. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes bright, and her hair was everywhere shining in the light from the flames around the tent.

He moved his face closer as he laid down on his stomach between her thighs. His tongue traced the creases between her hip and thigh. His mouth moved toward the triangle of curls. She gasped loudly as his tongue tasted her wet heat. He slowly withdrew his fingers and met her eyes as he licked her juices from the thick digits. She opened her legs involuntarily. They fell apart and he wrapped his arms around her well-muscled thighs. He dove in like a man starved. Pressing the flat of his tongue against her entrance before withdrawing and stabbing deep and swirled. She nearly screamed and came up off the furs as he teased and sucked at her. Her hips were thrusting helplessly, searching for relief. He took her up several times, pushing her higher each time and her body rippled with pleasure. He finally added his fingers, circling her clit and she screamed and came in his mouth. She kept chanting his name into the night.

He moved up to his knees and kissed his way back up her body. When he reached her face, she grabbed him harshly by his hair and forced him down for a messy kiss. She licked at his beard and nipped at his lips. “Inside me now.” She said, nearly begging him. He leaned down and guided himself into her body slowly. He watched as his full head pushed into her tight entrance. At once he felt her body gripped him tight. Her wet scorched him as he pushed further in. He watched her face for any sign of discomfort, but she showed nothing but impatience. She dug her nails into his back as he pushed harder, spurring him on. “Dany” her name burst from his lips as he pushed further into her. He slid his way through her folds, the heat building as he bottomed out.

They both took a deep breath as he was fully seated inside her. He pressed his forehead to hers and then gave her a quick hot kiss. “Move Jon. Please.” Dany whimpered at him. He pulled back and thrusted back into her. They kept their eyes locked and both were breathing hard as he moved. His hands tightened on her hips and he buried himself over and over again into her tight heat. She was so tight and soft and warm that he could barely stand it. He was determined to bring her to another peak before he found his. He retreated and thrust again the pace picking up as she moved her hips in time with him, finding their rhythm as they moved together. The sound of their flesh smacking against each other filled the tent joining their moans and groans. His thrusts became punishingly hard as she pulled him closer, wrapping her legs around him and begging him. Her moans were quickly turning to shouts of his name. His body went crazy thrusting hard and sure, he moved his hand back to her clit, circling the small spot.

She tightened impossibly and screamed his name loudly. Somewhere in the back of his mind he thought about the fact that nearly everyone in the camp could probably hear them. He really didn’t give a fuck. Quite frankly, he wanted everyone to know who brought her pleasure. He saw stars as she almost strangled his cock in her sheath. He came with a shout of her name, pumping his release deep into her body. His back arched and then he collapsed into her. Their mouths met with a clash, tongues twisting and battling for dominance. He tangled his fingers into her hair, and she wrapped her arms around him. Her legs sliding to hook around his. Every bit of their bodies met and tangled in each other. He couldn’t tell where he ended, and she began. Finally, he was soft enough to slip out of her and he rolled onto his back beside her.

They lay side by side for a long moment both staring up at the canopy above them. Their breaths were slowing coming down from the exertion. He turned to look at her, a goofy smile on his face. “I’ve wanted to do that from the very first night.” He confessed.

She smiled widely at him, a bit mischievous. “I wish you would have.” She took a deep breath. “How did you become that good of a lover, Jon Targaryen?” She asked playfully. “I thought you took a vow of celibacy.”

He sighed. “It’s a really long story, but I did have a lover once. She died at Castle Black. But even with her, it was never like this. I’ve never felt anything like this.”

She blushed and ducked her head. “It’s never been like this for me either.” She went quiet for a long moment and then her fingers danced across his chest. “Do you think you could go again?”

“Already?” He asked, chuckling.

“I’m a dragon. When the fire gets to be too much it’s either fight or fuck.” Daenerys said, shrugging.

“I know what you mean.” He said darkly, the fire shining in his eyes. He was already hard again and she looked at him hungrily. She pushed him onto his back and moved over him, her hair falling around them.

“We better hope two dragons don’t burn down this tent.” Dany laughed. “Not that I care if everyone sees us but you’re not quite as fireproof as I am.”

He groaned back at her as she sunk down onto him and the heat built all over again. They went at it for most of the night until finally collapsing into a heap of exhausted flesh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first smut, so be gentle please!


	16. Daenerys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dany and Jon make big decisions about their relationship. New alliances are formed and plans are made. The Targaryen army leaves the Reach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!! Happy Wednesday!
> 
> Sorry about the later than usual post. I got behind in grading and had a test to write so this got pushed to the back burner.
> 
> Thank you to AbstractlySydney for your help as always.
> 
> I'm not sure about the flow of this chapter. I've tried and tried to rearrange it, but it still feels a little choppy. Overall, I like the things that happen and I hope you do to!! Enjoy!

Dany woke to the soft morning light flooding the tent. Her head was pillowed on a strong chest, the flesh warm and moving slowly up and down. For a quick moment she was startled, forgetting where she was and who she was with. The last time she had woken in a Dothraki tent with her head on a man’s chest it had been Drogo. She took a deep breath and released the tension in her body from the sudden shocking moment. The body beside her was smaller than Drogo’s and the skin much lighter. The man beside her didn’t wake up demanding to be satisfied. More likely she’d have to do the demanding. She smiled at that. Jon had been dominant last night, more than she’d seen from him, but he also allowed her the time to be the one in charge. No matter how rough it had gotten between them, everything was softened by their mutual feelings of admiration.

He was a skilled lover. She had been shocked by that, not expecting it. Daario had also been skilled, and she wasn’t ever unsatisfied with him, but she also wasn’t as emotional with him as she was with Jon. At first, she thought he might have lied about only having one other lover, but the more she thought about it, the more she understood. Jon had a knack for reading people, it was one of the traits that made him a good leader. He could see what someone needed and provide it. She shivered as she thought about how he put that trait to work on her last night. Her body was still tingling from the multiple releases she’d had.

She studied his face in sleep. He was a gorgeous man, even more so now that she had seen his body which was honed to lethal perfection. Jon wasn’t as large a man as Drogo, but he was powerful, and his size in certain areas was definitely comparable. She absently traced the scars on his chest and abdomen. They were ragged and ridged against his smoother skin. Each one looked like it was rather fresh even though the injury had to have been at least half a year ago now. The one that scared and fascinated her the most was the one over his heart, the one he didn’t survive. A pang of sadness hit her at the idea that she could have never met him, that he could have been gone from the world before she ever found him. He looked so young in his sleep. They were of similar ages, but both had an air of older people. It was so rare for them to actually act their age. Being together was one of the few times.

Daenerys wondered what kind of problems would come of this decision. She had no intention of backing out. He would be hers, and she would be his. She didn’t care what anyone had to say. She had never felt as right as when she came together with Jon the night before. The sense of being whole, completing one another was so strong between them. But what did this mean going forward? There would always be tension among people about who was the ruling member of House Targaryen if they didn’t figure something out. He couldn’t continue just being the Prince of Dragonstone. He was meant for more than that, just like she was. They weren’t going to marry other people, that was decided. The Northern kingdoms would always follow him more than her. They would have to find a way to balance each other, to coexist as rulers. The Iron Throne was hers, but she honestly didn’t want to do it all alone.

“You’re liable to set the tent on fire with all that thinking. I can see the smoke coming out of your ears.” Even without seeing his face she could tell he was smiling.

She turned her face up to meet his eyes and returned the smile. “Good morning.” She said sweetly.

“Morning.” He answered, his voice rough with sleep. “What has you so caught up this morning? Not regretting this are you?” He put some humor in his voice, but she could see the hesitation in his eyes as if he were waiting for her to tell him everything was a mistake.

“I could never regret this.” She answered, putting him at ease. “It was too perfect to regret.”

“Gods, we’re both getting so sappy.” He said chuckling darkly. “I think I even said something about the world not being perfect if you weren’t in it last night.”

She laughed. “You definitely did say that, and you’re not allowed to take it back. It was a great line.”

“It wasn’t just a line, Dany.” He said seriously.

“I know.” She answered, leaning in to kiss him softly. She rested her forehead on his for a long moment and simply breathed in the peace surrounding them. “We need to talk about what comes next for us.”

“Well, I have this thing I can do with my tongue.” He said reaching for her.

She burst out laughing and pushed at his hands. “Not in bed, you fiend! Politically, with our allies, in our house.”

He groaned and dropped his hands, his head falling back to the pillow below him. “Can’t we tell them to all fuck off and that we’re going to do what we feel is best? I’d particularly like to do that to Tyrion.”

“No, we cannot, my love.” Dany said primly. “But we can decide what is best and let them counsel us on what to do in order to get what we want going forward.”

“Okay. Sounds like this is going to be a serious conversation.” He said sitting up and propping himself up on the pillows. She bit her lip at the sensual view before her. “Do I need to get dressed?”

“If I had it my way Jon, you’d never need to get dressed.” Dany said mischievously, raising her eyebrows. “But no, in fact I already have a plan in mind.”

“Okay.” He said, wiping the sleep from his eyes. “Let’s hear it.”

“Well, it’s simple really.” She said shyly looking down. “We get married and rule as co-rulers, Queen and King.” Silence reigned in the tent for several long moments and she refused to look up and see any kind of rejection on his face.

Jon reached over and scooped her up, sitting her in his lap facing him. “Daenerys Targaryen, are you asking me to marry you?” He asked softly. “I must be better than I thought in bed.”

She smacked his chest. “You’re very good yes, but I’m asking you to keep all of our people aligned with us, not because I want to keep you in my bed.”

“So you don’t want me in your bed?” He asked playfully.

“Jon Targaryen, there is only one bed you will be sleeping and fucking in for the rest of your life, and it is mine. And not because we are the rightful rulers of the Seven Kingdoms but because we love each other, and I don’t expect to ever have to explain that to you again.” She said seriously, staring into his eyes the whole time.

“Very well, Your Grace.” He said. “It’s decided then.” He flipped them over so that he was laying on top of her chest to chest. “As King, I do feel that it is my one true to duty to ensure that my queen is fully satisfied at all times.”

She giggled. She liked this version of Jon. The one that was comfortable in his own skin and wanted to play. Very few people got to see the young man under all of the battle-hardened commander, but she would be eternally grateful that she was one of the privileged few. She knew that this time together, alone would be what kept them sane in their lives as rulers of the Seven Kingdoms. “Yes, my king. It is most definitely your most important duty.”

He leaned down to kiss her, the playful banter making his lips particularly soft. Last night’s escapades which had lasted long into the night had been intense and almost savage at times, but obviously this morning, they were both wanting to feel lighter and fun. His fingers dove into her hair, pulling long strands of silver through his fingers. His tongue played with hers and she explored his body with her fingertips. He was physically perfect. Even in all of his clothing it was obvious that his arms were heavily muscled, and his waist was trim, but it was something else altogether to see him naked.

After a long while of sweetly kissing each other, Jon moved his hands to her thighs and parted them widely. She could feel one of his thick digits teasing her entrance. She was soaked, but she nearly always was around him. He didn’t waste any more time. Taking himself in hand he thrusted hard into her, seating himself fully. She gasped and dug her nails into his perfect ass. He moved in and out of her slowly, kissing her over and over. The tension built slowly but surely between them. He hit just the right spot in her and she gasped, pushing her neck up towards him as her head went back. He took advantage and attached his mouth roughly to the side of her throat near her ear. He sucked and bit gently as the speed of his thrusts increased.

She pushed into him harder, willing him to go harder into her. Instead, he grabbed her hips and without leaving her body pulled her up to sit on his lap. They were chest to chest, face to face in the bed. “Ride me, Dany.” He growled at her. He forced her hips to move and that was all the encouragement she needed. She wrapped her arms around his neck for leverage and started grinding down into him. She pushed her clit against him, seeking relief in the bundle of nerves. He leaned in to kiss her and she met his lips sloppily. Dany deliberately squeezed her inner muscles around him, forcing him to get more forceful. She moved faster in tight circles over him. His cock was the perfect size for her, it filled her just right hitting every glorious spot in her tight channel.

She groaned into his mouth as she came, not able to hold on any longer. He was right there with her and she watched with amusement as his eyes rolled slightly back into his head as he came with a shout and a shudder. They relaxed against each other for a long moment. He finally slid out of her as she leaned back and fell into the bed. They were both breathing hard and staring into each other’s eyes. “You look thoroughly ravaged, my king.” She told him playfully.

“I feel ravaged, Dragon Queen.” He teased back.

There was movement at the mouth of the tent and Jon spun quickly, moving to stand obviously searching the floor of the tent for his weapons stark naked. In walked several Dothraki maids. Each carrying a different provision for the day. All of them looked at him hungrily before turning to her with a bow of their heads. She couldn’t even be mad at their ogling of her betrothed because his face was bright red, and he dove back for the cover the bed provided.

She greeted the women and asked for a bath in Dothraki. They all nodded and replied that the bath would be a few minutes but left to perform their duties. She laughed as she looked down at Jon who was hiding in the furs, his breathing harsh and his face still flushed. He scowled up at her. “It’s not funny.” He said seriously.

“Jon. The Dothraki fuck in the open, under the stars. They think it’s a good sign when a couple is vocal. Which is probably a good thing because no doubt most of the camp heard us last night.” She said, amused. “There’s nothing to be ashamed about here. Unless you’re ashamed of me?” She stuck her bottom lip out and exaggerated sadness.

He simply shot her a dark look and stood from the bed, starting to collect his clothes which were scattered around the tent. He had put his thinnest layers back on by the time the maids reappeared with the bath amenities. Jon tried to excuse himself while she bathed but she just shook her head. “You’re taking one after me, so just sit down and break your fast.” She said forcefully.

He just sighed and sat back down, watching her sink into the steaming water. His eyes darkened as they looked at her body and she couldn’t help but blush under the scrutiny. The maids all eyed her as well and giggled and whispered in hushed tones. Jon had left a lot of evidence behind of their night of passion. Love bites and smudges from his fingerprints covered her body and as she sunk into the water, she realized how sore she was. She hissed as she felt the slight sting in her cunt and the light bruising on her body. She turned to look at Jon to reprimand him playfully, but he was looking at her with such possession that she just shivered instead. One of the maids introduced herself as Zhali and offered to wash and braid her hair. Dany smiled and nodded gratefully at the young woman. She reminded Dany a lot of Irri, her faithful Dothraki maid from so long ago.

Jon sat and ate as she finished cleaning and dressing. Her hair was braided, not as complex as Missandei’s work, but the Zhali had done a great job for her first time. She made a note to keep the young woman close. She ordered out the maids once she was dressed and the water was replaced. No one needed to watch Jon bathe but her. He stripped off the clothes he had put on and stepped into the water. It was his turn to hiss when his back hit the warm surface. He shot a look at her, but she just smiled and shrugged. “I have long nails.” She said.

“Claws is the more appropriate term.” He said back. “Dragon claws.”

***

After they were both fed, washed, and dressed they started the trek up to the castle with Chakko and Zhowo. The two Dothraki commanders had looked at them knowingly and greeted them with large grins. Dany knew they hadn’t been quiet; it had been nearly impossible for her. She didn’t care if they knew, everyone would soon enough. Jon Targaryen was no longer Jon Snow the Northern bastard, or Jon Targaryen Prince of Dragonstone and heir to Daenerys Targaryen. He was Jon Targaryen, King of the Seven Kingdoms, the future husband of the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. It was untraditional, sure, but then again nearly everything she did was untraditional.

As they entered the courtyard, Jon stopped to have a word with one of the Lannister prisoners. He waved her on and she continued inside but asked a few Dothraki to stay behind with their commander and King. She made her way to the same room where they had held strategy meetings in the days leading up to the battle. Lady Olenna was still wearing her black mourning clothes, but Daenerys was happy to see that the woman looked more relaxed than she’d ever seen her. It seemed that life was returning to the older woman. Her grandsons, Garlan and Willas, sat on either side of her. Willas looked up at her with a bright smile as the room greeted her and did the appropriate bows. The young man was attractive, but definitely not her type. She smiled as she thought of Jon’s jealousy over this slight man. As if he could hold a candle to her betrothed. Garlan looked worse for the wear. Obviously, he had gone deep into his cups the night before at the feast. His curls were askew and there were dark circles under his eyes. Ser Gareth Fossoway and Ser Horas Redwyne both had similar traits to Garlan but were obviously better at concealing their morning roughness.

Dany was taken aback at the appearance of new people at the table. “Your Grace.” Willas began. “This is Lady Arwyn Oakheart and her commander and first-born son Lord Aden Oakheart.” She nodded her head at both of them. “The same Oakhearts that abandoned the battle during the parley?” She asked with an edge.

The young man swallowed thickly. “Your Grace, the only reason we were with them in the first place is because two of my brothers serve as Kingsguard in King’s Landing. We received a raven telling us that they both would be killed by Cersei unless we stood with them against your armies. We were coerced and had no real allegiance to any of the lions, Your Grace.”

She eyed them skeptically. “And who holds your loyalty now, Lord Oakheart?”

He straightened his spine visibly before her. “House Tyrell, Your Grace. They have declared for you, and we will follow their lead.”

“Your Grace.” The strong voice came from the older Lady Oakheart. “I’m afraid our involvement with the Lannisters is entirely my fault. My sons wanted to remain with the Tyrells and fight here with you, but I insisted that we try to save their brothers.” The older woman stopped and hung her head in defeat. “But they took a vow, both of them. Their fate, whatever it may be is now in the hands of Cersei Lannister. There is nothing I can do for them. Please do not punish my son Lord Aden for the weaknesses of his mother.”

There was a long silence as Daenerys thought it over. She thought back to the conversation with Jon last night about compromise and give. “Lady Oakheart, I respect your humility and honor in admitting your fault. As long as Lord Oakheart can promise that his armies won’t leave mine during a parley, I think we can consider ourselves to be fully allied.” She said with some humor in her tone.

The tension broke in the room and smiles shown on the Oakhearts’ faces. “We won’t make it a habit, Your Grace.” Said Lord Oakheart with a chuckle.

She looked around the table at her allies in the Reach. It was a strong group, and she felt better now that the whole kingdom was behind her and not just its liege lord. She turned to Chakko and Zhowo and waved them forward to the table. Chakko may not be able to speak, but both men understood the common tongue, even if they didn’t speak it well. That among other reasons was why they were placed at the head of her Dothraki horde. She watched as the knights flinched when the two Dothraki men joined her at the table. “This is Chakko and Zhowo, they are the commanders of my Dothraki. I have asked them to be here for the strategy meetings.” Before any of the Reach knights could say anything, the door to the chamber swung open and Jon entered followed closely by Dickon Tarly.

He looked around the room quickly. His gaze stopped briefly on the Oakhearts, but he just looked to her and nodded. “And this is Jon Targaryen, my betrothed, and the rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms.” She said proudly.

Gasps echoed around the room. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Willas Tyrell looking to his grandmother, but she just shrugged at him. Horas Redwyne and the Oakhearts looked a little unnerved, most likely because of the Targaryen tradition of marrying within the family. Gareth Fossoway looked quite thrilled though. That didn’t surprise Dany. The young knight had taken to Jon as if he were a legendary hero. She kept most of her attention on Jon though. He had started out so reluctant to take any position, but apparently had no problem being claimed by her, he moved to stand beside her proudly. “Congratulations, Your Grace.” Olenna nodded to Daenerys. “Your Grace.” Then to Jon. “You’ve certainly made an interesting choice.”

“It was the easiest one to make, my lady.” Daenerys said sternly, not leaving any room for argument. She turned to Jon and nodded her head toward Dickon, questions in her eyes.

“Lord Dickon Tarly is here because he will be leading his men and the rest of the prisoners from yesterday’s battle up North to join the preparations for the War to come.” Jon said strongly. “Her Grace allowed them to live and they will serve the realm by helping us defend against our enemies.”

“What war is this?” Asked Horas Redwyne, his voice skeptical. “I thought the war was for King’s Landing and the throne?”

“Our first one is, Ser Redwyne.” Daenerys returned. “But after the war for the throne is won, we will move North to battle with the enemy of us all. The Night King and the army of the dead are making their way south, and they will kill everyone in their path if they’re not stopped.”

The room exploded. Incredulous looks were shot Jon and Dany’s way and questions flew across the room. Insults were lobbed by the knights. Finally, the commotion died down and Jon spoke. “I don’t have physical proof for you, be grateful for that, because any physical proof would leave you with nightmares for the rest of your lives. You’ll just have to take my word as the former Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch, as the accepted King in the North, that this is our true enemy. Cersei will seem like an irritating fly compared to the war we will have to fight in the North.” 

“You believe this, Your Grace?” Lord Oakheart asked Daenerys.

“I do.” Said Dany strongly. “His Grace has put that war on hold to help me win the Seven Kingdoms. Not just as a compromise to gain my resources, but also because we both know that our best shot to survive is a united Westeros.” Dany tried really hard to keep all skepticism from her voice. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe Jon. She did. But it was hard to fathom without seeing it for herself. The men and women room seemed to still be wary of the information, but they were reluctant to voice their dissent in the face of her agreement with Jon.

“So you’re going to trust that a man who was your enemy on the battlefield just yesterday is going to lead a contingent of his men and Lannister men to the North?” Willas asked.

“Yes.” Jon said firmly. “Because Dickon Tarly knows he has honor to regain and because he knows that if he tries to desert this mission nothing will save him from me.” The room filled with a terrible sound as Jon finished. Rhaegal’s roar could be heard echoing through the castle, perfectly timed as if he was listening to his rider’s conversation the whole time.

Everyone at the table froze. It was as if all the sudden they all remembered who they were dealing with. Two Targaryens that commanded three dragons, with a full Dothraki horde at their backs. Daenerys cleared her throat and laced her fingers together in front of her. Her voice came strong and sure. “The Reach armies currently here will ride with the Dothraki and Jon and I to meet the rest of the army with the Dornish at King’s Landing. We will be met there by the Unsullied and the rest of my advisory council. Once the battle for King’s Landing is complete, we will decide then who will go North to fight the army of the dead. Objections?” She asked haughtily.

No one moved for a long moment. “So long as the lion bitch dies, I’m fine with it.” Olenna said staunchly. Most in the room nodded their heads in agreement.

“Prepare your men, the Dothraki will pack up camp. We leave for King’s Landing tomorrow. It will take us at least two weeks to make it there. And that’s at a fast pace.” Daenerys said.

“I would also like to strategize on the way.” Jon said from her side. “The Dothraki won against the Lannisters decisively because they met on an open field. Fighting an enemy behind a wall requires a different strategy, one that will need the input of the knights and lords here at the table.”

“Very well. On to King’s Landing then.” Horas Redwyne finally relented. “Hopefully this goes better than Renly’s cursed campaign.” The young lord rolled his eyes, and there were a few chuckles around the room. The room cleared quickly, the men moving to accomplish her orders and get the army ready to march. Jon’s eyes locked with hers and he gave a quick nod as he left the room.

“Lady Olenna, could I speak with you for a moment?” Daenerys asked. The old woman nodded as the room cleared around them. Dany moved to sit with the woman on her side of the table. “Jon told me that there was a plan to have me married to Willas.” She began.

Olenna chuckled. “That man of yours is perceptive and listens very well. No wonder he always looked at Willas as if he was going to have his dragon eat him alive. He had my grandson scared shitless.”

Daenerys tried to hold back her grin. “I wanted to make sure that my betrothal to Jon doesn’t change the state of our alliance. I value you, not only for your resources, but also for your counsel.”

“Then perhaps you’ll take my advice now, my dear.” Olenna said. “You are a dragon, and despite being raised by wolves, that man of yours is definitely a dragon as well. There will be many who try and tell you what to do, but a dragon does not follow the will of the sheep. I know that the Targaryens have a long history of marrying each other. Maybe it’s just because your blood calls to one another.” She shrugged. “I don’t know why exactly, but I do know that he seems to be your match in every way. That’s true magic. He’ll make a good king, a strong one to stand next to his strong queen. You’ll need to work hard together to make Westeros bend to your will.” The woman sighed wistfully. “If I had a man like that, I would have been a force to be reckoned with.”

“You already are my lady.” Daenerys said with a smile.

“Your hand is a clever man.” Olenna said, suddenly serious. “He won’t like this turn of events. It leaves him with little power over you. Tyrion might not be everything his father was, but he’s still a Lannister and they find a way to survive no matter the cost to others. Watch your back, Your Grace, and choose your advisors wisely. Don’t be afraid to be a dragon, allow your relationship with your betrothed to bring out the best in both of you. House Tyrell and the Reach will stand behind you, and perhaps in this new world you’re building you could find a place for my family?”

“Undoubtedly.” Dany answered with a nod.

***

“You ride extremely well, Your Grace.” Ser Horas Redwyne said to her. They had been on the road for nearly a week and a half, but it was the first time the knight had joined them at the head of the caravan.

“I am a Khaleesi, Ser Horas.” She told him haughtily. “A Khaleesi who cannot ride, is no Khaleesi. I am used to these long days. However, I confess it has been a very long time since I have ridden this long with no breaks.”

The last ten days had been a hard ride from Highgarden. They trekked most of the day, stopping only when it was no longer possible to see the road in front of them. Then they were awake at first light and back at it again. The first few nights had passed with her and Jon indulging themselves with long bouts of lovemaking, but the longer they went the more exhausted and more sore they both were. Now when they camped, they cuddled together, still skin to skin but with not much more than stroking each other’s skin. She was excited to get to the fields outside of King’s Landing where they could set up a more permanent camp.

They had received word a few days ago that Tyrion and Missandei would be waiting for them outside the city. Both had ventured out from Dragonstone despite Euron’s fleet still in the area. Davos, Gendry, and Arya were still on Dragonstone working hard to get the Valyrian steel done and coordinating forces across the Kingdoms. Davos proved to be very astute as to where different forces should go around the country, having a sense of who would be accepted where. It was proving invaluable as her many diverse forces made their way around the different kingdoms. Tyrion apparently was setting up the battle plans for King’s Landing, but no doubt Jon and the knights they were travelling with would have some say in the strategy.

“Will we meet up with your other army soon, Your Grace?” Horas asked. The man had been lukewarm to her the entire time he’d been at Highgarden and as a result she had been rather cold to him. No doubt sensing he was falling out of favor, the man was now trying to make small talk. She refrained from rolling her eyes at him.

“The Unsullied are on their way from Casterly Rock to King’s Landing. It’s possible we might meet them, but they have quite a bit of a head start. I expect to meet them when we make it to the final camp.” Daenerys answered him. She turned to look for Jon, hoping he could extract her from the knight’s presence, but she found him riding alongside Zhowo. Jon seemed to take a liking to the Dothraki in general and she was grateful. That was also spreading to others, including Ser Fossoway who was riding on Jon’s other side, hanging on his every word.

“The men are saying that you plan on leaving the Rose Road soon.” Redwyne said. “Why is that?”

“Ser Horas, were you asleep during the making of travel plans?” Daenerys asked impatiently, her temperament edgy from the endless days on horseback.

“No, Your Grace. I was helping to set up tents for my men.” He responded contritely.

She sighed, pushing most of the air out of her lungs. “I’m sorry.” She apologized sincerely. “It’s been a long few days and I find that I’m quite irritable. It’s no excuse, I apologize.”

He looked surprised at her willingness to acquiesce, and then chuckled. “Lady Olenna is my aunt you know. I’m quite used to dealing with women that have sharp tongues, but not used to an apology afterwards. If I’m pestering you, I apologize. It’s just I know I wasn’t the warmest to you and I wanted to mend any bridges I may have burned. You see I feel like I’ve been fighting wars now most of my life. Between Renly Baratheon’s ridiculous claim to the throne and then Margaery Tyrell’s stint as queen it seems like the Reach has been following the whims of a claimant for the last decade. I was nervous to trust you at first, even more nervous to follow your King, but I’m glad I’m here.”

“You were nervous to follow Jon?” Daenerys asked. “Why?”

“I know this might sound ridiculous to someone raised outside of Westeros, but us first-borns are always taught to fear bastards.” Ser Horas answered. He must have seen the storm brewing on her face because he continued quickly. “I know he’s not really one, but he’ll always have that reputation, and the name of Snow. We’re taught to be cautious because one letter written to a monarch can undo every claim you have to your home and your house. I don’t have any bastard siblings, but I have a friend who did. His bastard brother ended up claiming everything because he was favored by their father. To the outside, it would look like that’s what His Grace is doing with his brother, Robb.”

“I understand your hesitation if that is your experience, but I hope you understand that Jon and Robb’s situation is much different.” She said. “Robb has no desire to be anything more than the Lord of Winterfell, and in fact pushed Jon to accept his claim over the Iron Throne. Hell, I had to push him to accept the claim. He’s a good man, and a humble one.”

“I know that now.” Ser Horas said. “I spent all day yesterday riding with him. He talked about you most of the time, how excited he is for the new Westeros you’re going to build. He thinks the sun rises and sets with you. It was actually quite uncomfortable.”

She laughed out loud. “I’m afraid you’ll have to forgive him. My betrothed and I are in a new state of our relationship and find we can both be quite mushy. I insist that he’s much more than just an acolyte of mine.”

He nodded. “I know that too. I’ve seen him spar. He’s insane. The best I’ve ever seen. It’s no wonder his reputation has made all the way down here.”

Dany smiled proudly at that, deciding to bring the knight closer into the fold she answered his earlier question. “As for your question about leaving the road. Our camp outside the city is north of King’s Landing, near the Rosby Road. If we stay on the Rose Road, we’ll run right into the King’s Wood. We’ll make our way up to the Gold Road and come in from there. It’s better for us if we stay on the plains rather than in forested areas. The Dothraki are better in the open.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” Ser Horas said. “Forgive me, but His Grace mentioned that Tyrion Lannister was in charge of building camp outside of the city.” She nodded in agreement. “I don’t think he’s the best choice for that assignment, as far as I am aware, Tyrion Lannister has never been on a campaign, at least not led one.”

“And who would you suggest instead, Ser Horas?” She asked dully, raising her eyebrows at him.

He looked down sheepishly. “Well, it was always my job to organize camp during the War of the Five Kings. Perhaps I can provide some valuable insight to your Hand?”

“I think that would be an excellent idea, and a good job for you, Ser Horas.” Daenerys said. “The hardest part about using an army filled with so many different people is using them in the correct way.”

“That’s true, Your Grace.” Redwyne responded. The two went on to discuss many different tactical points as they continued on. In the evening, a few hours away from stopping, the army left the Rose Road and moved north towards the Gold Road. The two were close together at this point, and Daenerys wanted to stay on the main roads as much as possible in order to leave the country farms and smallfolk alone. They finally made camp a few hours south of where they would meet the Gold Road.

Tents went up and fires were built quickly. She and Jon ate the evening meal with the knights of the Reach, listening to them recount their tourney victories. Ser Fossoway found a young soldier and urged him over to regale them with a song. Dany encouraged it, leaning against Jon as he put his arm around her. The soldier sung the Bear and the Maiden fair, much to the delight of the entire camp, and finished with Jenny of Oldstones. She felt more than heard Jon’s hum when the song was over. “What?” She asked him.

“I just wonder if we’ll have a song someday.” He said a big smile on his face as he walked them to their tent. “A song of dragons and wolves.”

“Of ice and fire.” She said with a grin up at him. “You are quite the romantic, Jon Targaryen.”

“Only for you, my queen.” He said with a smile. “Did you have fun speaking with Ser Horas today?”

She backed away from him and eyed him speculatively. “Did you encourage him to come and speak with me?”

“He’s a good man but raised with some of the more old-fashioned ideals.” He said. “I wanted to see if you could open up his eyes to all that we could be. Call it a test run of sorts for future highborns.”

“And how did I do?” She asked him seriously.

“Well, given the heart eyes he’s now throwing your way, I think you did a more than sufficient job.” Jon looked over her shoulder and she turned to look at his view. Ser Horas Redwyne was speaking to several of the other knights, his hands moving, and he spoke energetically. He looked up and spotted her and smiled wide. She returned the smile and waved goodnight. Turning back to Jon she laughed at his face. “You’re going to have to get used to it, if you want me to be the one to turn hearts and minds, my love.”

Jon just rolled his eyes and grinned at her. “My burden to bear, being in love with the most beautiful woman in the world.” He kissed her forehead and wrapped his arm around her, leading her towards their tent.

Noise erupted around them as the Dothraki started screaming on the other side of camp. Shouts echoed closer to them as they moved to see what was causing the commotion. They both looked up to see three men running fast down the center of camp. Dressed all in black with long spears, they ran straight for her. Jon stepped in front, waiting to take the attack when she recognized the man in the center.

“Greyworm!” She called excitedly. The men running full out stopped before her and dropped to one knee. Her friend and advisor stood quickly and smiled. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around the Unsullied commander. “It does my heart good to see you commander.” She said in Valyrian.

“We came fast when we heard the horses, my queen.” He responded. “We’re on the Gold Road, just beyond that rise.” He pointed to the edge of camp. “Maybe an hour or two by foot. I wanted to make sure it was you.”

She stepped back and realized the entire camp was gathered around the reunion. Several Dothraki were on horses and held out their arakhs at the visitors, and knights had their swords drawn. Jon had stood down once she had called for Greyworm, she had told him much about her Unsullied leader and knew she was safe. She turned to the camp. “Back to your duties and bed, everyone. We’ve caught up to the Unsullied, and tomorrow we will ride to meet them and together march to King’s Landing.”

She waved Jon forward to meet Greyworm. “Greyworm of the Unsullied, this is Jon Targaryen, my betrothed and the King.” Greyworm looked at Jon suspiciously but bowed his head.

“I have heard much of you from Missandei of Naath. She writes to me and tells me about the Westerosi commander.” Greyworm said in his own unique version of the common tongue.

“I have heard much of you, Commander.” Jon said, nodding his head in respect. “From your second, Red Flea, and mostly from the Queen. I am honored to meet you.”

***

The next few days passed by uneventfully. They met the Unsullied on the Gold Road, and now they marched behind the khalasar and the knights. Greyworm had been given a horse and rode with her and Jon. He and Jon seemed to get along perfectly well, agreeing on many strategies and battle plans. She couldn’t resist teasing him about Missandei, but the Unsullied commander wouldn’t give anything away. Jon rescued him from the relentless teasing to tell Greyworm about Drogon being shot down and then it was her turn to be uncomfortable as Greyworm lectured her about safety.

Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, they crested a hill and saw King’s Landing stretched out in the distance. In the plain below them, they saw numerous tents erected already, awaiting their occupants. Daenerys rode into the main camp with Jon on one side and Greyworm on the other. Chakko and Zhowo were right behind them as the representatives for the Dothraki. They were followed by the four main bannermen of the Reach, Lord Garlan Tyrell, Ser Horas Redwyne, Ser Gareth Fossoway, and Lord Aden Oakheart. She watched as the Reach armies already present welcomed the four men with enthusiasm. Tyrion stood at the front of the receiving party along with Missandei, Qhono, and Arianne Martell. Dany could see the Dornish army eyeing the Dothraki speculatively as they came to a halt. Qhono came forward and greeted Daenerys and she returned the warm welcome. He then went to Chakko and Zhowo and she could hear the excited sounds of the Dothraki as they welcomed one of their trusted leaders back to the khalasar.

Tyrion came forward, not looking pleased. “We defeated our enemies on the field and secured Highgarden and then brought our armies to the siege. What could you possibly be angry about, Lord Hand?” She asked, playing dumb.

He gave her a scathing look. “We’ll talk about that in a moment. First, let’s make sure everyone gets where they need to be. We have a map of camp already drawn up…”

She looked over her shoulder and called for Ser Horas. Tyrion looked confused. “Ser Horas Redwyne has quite the background in camp organization. I’d like him to look over the plans before we get everyone settled.” Tyrion looked mutinous at this, but wisely kept his mouth shut and handed the map over to the knight.

Ser Horas looked it over and nodded several times. “Most of this is good, but the Unsullied should be closer to the center. They have no cavalry and the other men need more space for their horses. If you move them closer, you can fit more people in the space. It also protects them in case they mount a cavalry attack against us.”

She nodded to him and instructed everyone to make the necessary changes and set up camp. Most of the group dispersed to do their appointed job. Arianne stepped forward and welcomed her back, but not without casting a perusing glance at Jon. Dany didn’t miss the less than subtle way the Dornish princess licked her lips at the sight of her King before walking away. Missandei stepped forward and hugged her, distracting her from the byplay. “I’ve missed you, Your Grace.” She said softly.

“I’ve missed you too my friend.” She said back. “Where is Varys? I expected him to be here.”

It was Tyrion who answered the question. “He elected to stay on Dragonstone. He said that he has no desire to work from a tent. His words not mine.”

Dany simmered at that. She didn’t trust Varys, at all. Now his choosing to stay on Dragonstone made him look even more suspicious. She looked at Tyrion for a long moment. He looked fit to burst. “Your Grace,” he said, turning to Jon. “There are several missives from Ser Davos waiting for you in the strategy tent.”

It was a clear dismissal from their presence. She nodded at him and he moved toward the large tent off to the side of the largest in the very center of camp, her tent. “Spit it out, Tyrion.”

“I’m just curious as to how you went away with him as your nephew and heir and came back with him as your betrothed and your King.” Tyrion said, furious. “I elected to follow you, Your Grace. Not Jon Snow.”

“Jon Targaryen.” She corrected harshly. “He is the King and will be for as long as I am Queen.”

He waved her off. “What did he give up in order for you to share your power with him? His cock?”

She flinched. “Do you think I’m the type of woman to give up everything I have for a pretty face and a large cock, Lord Tyrion? I thought we had this discussion already.”

Tyrion ignored the rising flames in her eyes and continued on. “Westeros will never see you as equal rulers as long as a man is on the throne.”

“And they’ll never accept me without him.” She countered. Tyrion froze, standing quietly before her. “And you knew that. Which tells me that you were planning one of at least two things. Either you were planning to kill him, or you were planning on backing his claim instead of mine.”

Tyrion let out a long breath. “I was hoping it would never come to having to kill him. I thought we might have solved it with making him your heir, but I had accepted the eventuality.”

“Well accept a different one now.” Daenerys fired back. “Jon and I will be married and will rule together with equal power as King and Queen.”

Tyrion nodded reluctantly. Dany knew the fight wasn’t over. They would be having this argument again, possibly many times. She moved away from him, Missandei keeping pace toward the strategy tent where Jon had disappeared. “How are the plans for the siege going?”

“We’re on track and have a good plan.” Tyrion said quickly, following behind them. “Davos keeps sending updates on the goings on behind the wall. Whoever he’s got in there spying has given us more information that we could have ever dreamed. Guard rotation, placement, and troop movement. They even provided information on Euron’s fleet.” She looked at him sharply at that. The dragons weren’t with them. They had started out that way, but had veered off, no doubt looking for food. “Euron has fully stocked his ships. He’s ready to go out to battle, but we’re not sure where he’s heading. For now, it’s best to keep all of our allies off the sea.” She nodded her agreement.

They walked into the strategy tent and saw Jon frantically reading a scroll. Many others laid open before him on the map covered table. His forehead was creased in concentration and aggravation. He looked up at her. “I have to go to Winterfell.”


	17. Jon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon makes plans with Daenerys and Tyrion. He and Dany fly to Winterfell to meet with the Northern allies. Petyr Baelish’s nefarious actions are revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Sunday lovelies!! Time to check in with our favorite couple.
> 
> Thank you to AbstractlySydney for your editing and guidance.
> 
> Enjoy!!! ❤️❤️❤️

“What do you mean, you need to go to Winterfell?” Tyrion asked incredulously. “You just got here! Our armies are assembling and preparing for a siege!”

Jon looked at Tyrion with a harsh, dark look. “I am still King in the North. My men chose me to lead them, and now they’re asking me to come home. With Rhaegal I should be gone a week at most. I’ll be back to help with the siege and the eventual sacking of the city.”

“You’re also the King of the rest of the Seven Kingdoms, unless I misinterpreted your plans.” Tyrion said sarcastically. “And the southern kingdoms need their commander and King as well.”

“If our armies can’t carry out orders given to them over the course of a few days without me physically present, then we have bigger problems than Cersei Lannister and Euron Greyjoy.” Jon reasoned back at him. “I know that you brought a lot of allies to the table at the beginning of your relationship with Daenerys, Tyrion. But you brought her weak allies.”

Gasps echoed around the tent. Missandei looked pale and Jorah grabbed the hilt of his sword. Daenerys moved toward him as if to shield him from her people. She held up a hand toward them and looked at Jon. “Explain yourself.” She said, her posture full of tension. “This is not a tent where you hold a tremendous amount of power so please tell me why you feel that my allies are weak.”

“You’re in a stronger position now than you were before we went to Highgarden, but not by much.” Jon started. Tyrion started to protest, but Jon held up his hand. “The Dornish are cunning and ruthless, but they’ve also never submitted to the Seven Kingdoms, even under threat of dragon fire. There’s nothing saying that they would truly back Dany for the throne.” Daenerys started to protest then, but he sent her a sharp look. She wanted them to be co-rulers, she needed to hear what he had to say. “The Iron Islands have ships, yes, but they also drew in a vicious enemy, and quite frankly, they’re not respected in Westeros. And the Reach wasn’t loyal to Daenerys unless she committed to killing Cersei. That’s literally all that Olenna wanted. Plus, the knights of the Reach are more known for their prowess on the tourney grounds than the actual battlefield. You and Daenerys brought in half of Westeros, but it’s the weak half. The North, the Vale, and the Riverlands are all sworn to me. They are bound to me by blood through my cousins, my siblings. If you want to have lasting power over Westeros, you don’t do it without the northern countries. So that being said, short of the dragons, one of which is now bound to me, I would say that I have the better stakes.”

Tyrion looked pale. Jon could see sweat beading on his forehead. Missandei had a look of concern on her face, but Dany and Jorah looked at him proudly. Jorah’s approval shocked him. It was obvious he was in love with Daenerys and obviously had to be hurt that she was now with Jon, but he was a northman. He understood and respected strong leadership. Dany needed a strong partner, a strong man, and he was determined to be that for her.

“If I didn’t know any better Jon, I would think you’re planning on taking all of Westeros for yourself.” Tyrion said shakily.

“I could. You know I could.” He said, staring straight into the short man’s eyes. “And I know that you’ve known that for a while now. I don’t want to rule alone, it’s too much of a burden, and I don’t want that for Daenerys. We’ve committed to each other and to ruling together. She trusts me, and if you want to maintain your position, you need to learn to trust me too. I’m going to Winterfell.”

“You still haven’t explained why it’s so imperative that you go right now.” Tyrion said.

Jon reached down and rearranged the scrolls in front of him into chronological order. “Edmure Tully retook Riverrun after the Freys were killed. He has now come north to treat in person with House Stark. He is sworn to me, but I’ve yet to meet him, and I like to take a measure of a man from the time he spends in front of me. Petyr Baelish, the Lord Protector of the Vale, has been at Winterfell since the battle that returned our stewardship. Apparently, Robin Arryn wants to meet me for himself, before he aligns himself with a Targaryen. Ser Harrold Hardyng is bringing him to Winterfell from Runestone. All three kingdoms will meet together to discuss my claim to the throne and their roles in the Great War. I feel that it’s very important for me to be there.”

Everyone in the tent was silent for a long, tense moment. Missandei surprisingly was the first one to speak. “Forgive me, Your Grace, but these men pledged to you without ever meeting you?”

He looked at her with kind eyes. “I know it must be difficult to understand Missandei because you chose Daenerys after she freed you and championed the downtrodden in Essos, but we rely on family honor in the northern kingdoms. All of these men knew me to be the son or nephew of Eddard Stark, and as the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch. I was supported by my cousin, Robb Stark, the Lord of Winterfell. You were able to witness your queen’s acts of honor. My men simply read about mine. I would like them to know me before they head into war with me as King.”

“I doubt they would find you wanting, Your Grace. You have fully embraced your role as a Targaryen.” She smiled kindly back at him.

“Let’s hope not. The Targaryen name may get you some pull in the south, but it’s nearly a curse in the North.” Jon looked at Daenerys with an honest look. “It could go very badly.”

“I’ll think they’ll have a hard time saying no to two Targaryens.” Daenerys said with a smile.

Tyrion threw up his hands. “You can’t go as well, Your Grace! He just basically said that the Northern lords will be hostile. You can’t go with just Jon, and no other protection.” All support that Jon had garnered with Jorah had obviously evaporated. He moved back behind Tyrion, an obvious show of support for the Lannister.

“I can, and I will, Lord Tyrion. There’s not enough time to take guards with us, we need to be back in time for the siege here.” Daenerys said strongly.

“It’s too dangerous, Khaleesi.” Jorah said pleadingly. “One arrow and that’s it, you’re gone.”

Jon practically growled at the man. “She won’t ever be without me, and I would never allow any harm to come to her.

“Forgive me, Your Grace, but you just spent the last few minutes talking about your ability to take all of Westeros, and now you want us to send our queen with you where she could be easily killed, leaving you the only Targaryen.” Jorah said spitefully.

“Daenerys is my queen as well. I have sworn to her. I don’t break my word.” Jon said darkly. “I came to Dragonstone in good faith, knowing that you all could easily kill me, but I came. If she wants to return the same faith that’s her choice. Like she said, we’ll be back in time for the siege.”

“The siege could last months!” Tyrion said.

“It’d better not.” Jon said darkly. “The longer we lay siege to that city, the more people will die. Daenerys and I will eventually have to go in with our dragons and our men to end it. There will be fire and blood, but I’d like to limit the amount that flows from the smallfolk.”

“And it will be difficult to do that if you and the dragons are in the North.” Tyrion said back.

Daenerys inserted herself back into the conversation. “If I’m going to be their queen, then they need to meet me as such, just as with Jon. I want them to see a united front. A king and queen who fight for everyone, not just a select few. The North, Vale, and Riverlands chose to back Jon, and now I want to give them the opportunity to choose me as well.”

“No one has to choose you, Your Grace. That’s the whole point of your birthright!” Tyrion exclaimed.

“That’s not who I want to be, Tyrion. That’s not what I want for Westeros.” Daenerys said. “I told you that I wanted to break the wheel. That means it can’t just be about our birthrights anymore. It can’t just be about  _ our _ families. We have to consider the other people that live in Westeros.”

“The other people?” Tyrion asked. His eyebrows shot up. “The smallfolk? You’re going to put your trust in the commoners?”

“That’s who we’re trying to save, Tyrion.” Jon said. “If you don’t understand or agree with it, then maybe you need to reconsider which monarch you serve.”

Tyrion was silent for a long moment and looked between the two rulers. Jon could see the calculations going on behind his eyes. “You would strip the lords of their power?” Tyrion asked quietly.

Daenerys shook her head. “We wouldn’t be able to entirely. Westeros wouldn’t survive if we went from the system they’ve always known, with a ruler and lords deciding everything, straight to total freedom of choice. But I have every intention of giving the smallfolk more of a voice, more of a say in their lives.” There was a long pause in the tent. Jon could see Missandei looking at Tyrion with concern, while Daenerys just stared at him with determination.

“I’ve committed to you, Your Grace. If you want to give half of your throne to Jon and give up some of your power to the smallfolk, then that is your choice. You warned me that there would be times you didn’t listen to my advice, but I warn you now, there will be consequences to these actions.” Tyrion said with his head bowed.

Jon’s blood boiled. Tyrion wasn’t here to help Daenerys win the country and establish a new world; he was following her so he could maintain his power. That was glaringly obvious to him. It also wasn’t Jon’s place to get between Dany and her Hand. He wouldn’t expect her to interfere between him and Davos.

“It appears we’ve reached an impasse for now, Lord Tyrion.” Daenerys said with a bite in her voice. Maybe she saw more than Jon thought. “We will discuss this more when Jon and I return from Winterfell. Which should be within a week.”

Tyrion nodded to her. “I will go and make sure the commanders are fully aware of their orders, Your Grace. Ser Jorah, I could use you.” The knight nodded and after seeking approval from his queen followed the Hand from the tent.

Daenerys turned to Missandei. “I was going to have you come with us, my friend, but given this conversation I think it would be valuable if you stay here.”

Missandei nodded. “I’ll keep an eye on him. I hope it’s just that he doesn’t like to be discounted. I like Tyrion, but if he does truly betray you for another, I will happily watch him burn.” With that, Missandei turned and left the tent.

“You do inspire loyalty. I’ll give you that.” Jon said, chuckling at Dany.

“With Missy, yes. But Tyrion might end up being a disaster.” Dany replied. Jon already thought he was a disaster, but he kept that opinion to himself for now.

***

Preparations were made quickly, and despite the long days on horseback that left them both sore, they called for Drogon and Rhaegal within a few hours of arriving at camp.

“I wish we weren’t fighting two wars.” Jon told her. “I don’t like to split my attention between both conflicts.”

“It has to be done. Even if we provided proof of the army of the dead, I doubt Cersei would suspend hostilities to take care of the threat. We’ll come back, take the city, burn Euron and his cursed ship to ash, and then we’ll all go back North for this war of yours.” Dany said. “You just remember in the future, when I want something that you don’t, that I sent all of my armies to the North on nothing more than your word, my King.”

Jon smiled at that. “You know… the reaction that occurs when you call me that, really scares me.”

Daenerys’s smile turned wicked. “What kind of reaction does it get, my King?”

Jon could feel his entire body tighten and he was pretty sure his eyes darkened as he looked at her. They were standing in front of their respective dragons, just on the outside of their large camp. Instinctively, or maybe Rhaegal was reading his thoughts, the dragons moved between them and the camp below. Jon grabbed Dany by the waist and pulled her flush to his body. “It makes me want to take you back to our tent, my Queen.”

He dipped his head down and took her mouth. The kiss was nearly violent but softened by their feelings for one another. He pushed into her and nipped her bottom lip, only to receive the same treatment from his Dragon Queen. She dug her nails into the back of his neck and pulled him even closer. Their tongues dueled for a long minute before they finally parted, breathing hard. Their foreheads were touching as they slowed their harsh breaths. Finally, he kissed her in the center of her forehead and released her. “We need to get going. I think it will take us close to two days, we’ll get there right after the raven we sent.”

Dany nodded and looked up at him. “Do you have a tent in the North where we could be alone?”

He laughed. “The Free Folk aren’t as reverent about me as the Dothraki are about you. If I want a tent, I pitch it myself. I do have one that I was using, but I have something better, my Queen.”

“What’s that?” She asked him curiously, her violet eyes dancing at the teasing nature of their conversation.

“The Lord’s chambers, Your Grace.” Jon said with a smirk. “Only Stark guards are allowed in that part of the castle, and I really don’t care what my family thinks.” He sighed and looked at her cautiously. “Unless you do?”

“Jon Targaryen, I would have you in the open under the stars with my Dothraki. I don’t care who knows you’re mine. In fact, before long, I intend for everyone to know it.” Dany said strongly.

They reluctantly parted in order to mount their dragons. As they took off, they could hear the shouts of the Dothraki, a rallying cry that was echoed throughout the camp, the first signs of unity from the combined armies of Daenerys Targaryen.

The flight was long. Jon was grateful it was only two days, compared to the three weeks it would have taken on horseback, but it seemed endless. They had every intention of stopping for the night, they had packed supplies to build a small camp, but Drogon and Rhaegal had different plans. Viserion flew above them, sometimes wheeling in and out of his brothers’ air space. They continued throughout the night, and Jon found himself dropping in and out of sleep. It was terrifying, falling asleep on a dragon. If you fell asleep on a horse, it was a drop to the ground, but nothing compared to the drop from a dragon. He looked over at Daenerys several times and she was curled on Drogon’s back, her legs securely locking her around the dragon, but her face was pressed into his warm scales. At first, he thought she was asleep, but in the moonlight, he could see the shine from her eyes.

The air was freezing. A type of cold he had only experienced north of the Wall. It blew constantly at them both and Jon knew his skin would be chaffed and red when they finally landed. He followed Dany’s example and leaned forward against Rhaegal, resting his cheek on the scales. All three dragons seemed determined to get them to their destination as quickly as possible, and at this rate, they would beat the raven they had sent ahead, warning Winterfell of their arrival. Jon finally insisted on a break as he saw the Neck below them in the morning light. He forced Rhaegal down to land in the empty marshes. The dragon did not appreciate landing in the muddy moors. Jon slid down from the irate dragon to stretch out his body. He looked over and watched as Dany descended gracefully from Drogon. Both dragons huddled together with Viserion, waiting for their riders to be ready to take to the skies once again.

“Maybe someday I’ll get the dismount down.” He said, shaking his head.

She giggled. “You’re getting much better. That first time is forever burned in my memory.”

Jon rolled his eyes. “I needed to stretch, relieve myself, and eat something. I hope you don’t mind.”

She shook her head. “Not at all. I don’t understand why they’re pushing so hard, maybe they realize the urgency of the whole situation. Dragons are intelligent and I think they know that we need to get back quickly.”

Jon smirked. “They also don’t like the cold.” Dany looked at him curiously. Jon just shrugged. “Rhaegal planted that idea firmly in my head as we flew last night.”

The royal couple stretched and relieved themselves. Then they fed on the salted meat, bread, and cheese that was packed for them. It was a simple meal, and a quiet morning for them. It was almost bizarre that they were totally alone, both were so used to being surrounded by people all the time. Finally, after delaying as much as possible, Jon mounted Rhaegal. He watched as Dany climbed onto Drogon, and almost immediately the black dragon moved to the sky, Rhaegal followed closely behind his brother. Viserion joined them shortly after.

The two Targaryens with their three dragons flew all day over the North. It was a cloudless day and the dragons cast large shadows on the land below. He could see the smallfolk and farmers as if they were small insects dotting the ground. No doubt all of them were shocked to see the mythical creatures flying overhead. As the sun set that day, he heard Daenerys screaming over the wind.

“How much further?” She asked him.

He shook his head. “Not much, maybe an hour? We’re close.”

The first thing they saw as they approached the Stark stronghold were tents and campfires stretched out across the plains. From his vantage point, Jon recognized the fish of the Tullys and the falcon of House Arryn. Both of the camps for the Riverlands and Vale were well established, and the tents looked to be in a formal position. As they moved closer to the castle, he could see the northmen’s tents spread out. They had a similar formation as the other two kingdoms but with tents that appeared much warmer. Finally, closest to the holdfast was the mismatched, sporadic placement of the Free Folk. One might look at their formation and think that it was a mess, but Jon knew the truth. The Free Folk knew how to place their tents to protect from the winds and snow and to keep the center of camp the warmest. Shouts started echoing from the camp below, and Jon knew they had been spotted.

Winterfell rose from the darkness, it’s large and round towers standing high in the night. The dragons circled around the large keep and for the first time in his life Jon saw all of Winterfell stretched out underneath him in the moonlight. They flew over the Godswood, with the Weirwood tree standing proudly in the center and over both courtyards. He could see the Stark men, running along the battlements, no doubt screaming to their comrades about dragons. Rhaegal landed first just outside the main gate of Winterfell, where Jon had pummeled Ramsay Bolton into a bloody mess. Jon dismounted quickly and called up to the guards to open the gates. Despite their recognition of him, they were hesitant to open in the face of a dragon. All of the sudden Jon heard a familiar voice from inside the keep.

“Open the bloody gates for your King, you fools.” Robb boomed.

Immediately the doors began to open, and Jon looked up to Drogon, who landed with a roar. It was a warning not to come too close to his rider. Daenerys dismounted just as Robb came out through the open passageway.

“Jon. Daenerys. Good to see you both!” Robb said jovially but looked at them confused. “Was I supposed to be expecting you?”

Jon looked at him sheepishly. “The raven was supposed to get here before us, but dragons fly faster. We came to meet with the Vale and Riverlands and to announce our own plans.”

Robb just nodded. “How about we get you both a bath and some food. Forgive me, but you both look like shit, so maybe you should sleep tonight before you’re introduced to everyone in the morning.”

Jon nodded. “Sounds like a plan. We’re both exhausted. You can send everything for the both of us to my chambers.” Jon was too exhausted to care what anyone thought of him and Dany sharing chambers.

Robb raised his eyebrows at them both and chuckled. “Well, alright then. I expect a full account of this development tomorrow.”

Robb turned to a servant and barked out orders and they watched as the dragons lifted off, no doubt going to find a place to nest for the night. After a few minutes, Robb returned and Dany and Jon trudged through the castle toward his chambers. They didn’t see anyone but guards along the way, no doubt because of Robb. The two entered his chambers and saw a welcomed sight. Two steaming baths sat before the hearth, and a table covered with food awaited them. Robb bid them goodnight and assigned guards to be positioned all along the hallway. Jon recognized a few and nodded to them before closing the door. Alone at last, Dany and Jon bathed quickly and ate their fill. Dany didn’t wash her hair with no one around to redo the braids. Too exhausted to do much else, they both stripped down and moved to cuddle in the center of the bed under the furs.

A soft feeling of relief and contentment washed over Jon as he laid there, stroking Dany’s soft skin. He thought back to the lonely months after his resurrection, when he used to dream about her. If he could have known how much his life would change, he might have had a more positive outlook. They had been pulled together and as much as he knew there was a larger purpose to it, he’d be forever grateful that their love had come of it as well. Just before he fell asleep curled around Daenerys, Jon whispered, “Welcome to Winterfell, my love.” He fell asleep with a soft smile on his face, his hand curled in her hair.

Jon woke to a pleasant sensation. His cock was warm and wet, something was sliding up and down his length. As he fully came to, he lifted the furs off his body and looked down to the beautiful face of Daenerys Targaryen. Her silver hair was wild, falling in every direction, and her purple eyes were shining brightly up at him. He couldn’t breathe as he watched the proud Dragon Queen take his cock in her hand and roughly stroke it, while licking the crown of his shaft. Jon tried to reach for her, to pull her up to him, but she shook her head and batted his arm away. A look of determination crossed her face and she changed angles, leaning over him and nearly swallowing his entire length. He threw his head back in ecstasy, his hands finding her hair. He couldn’t go another minute without feeling or tasting her.

Jon looked down at Daenerys who was still looking up at him with a sweet look in her eyes and his cock in her mouth. “Come up here.” He said firmly. She still shook her head, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Daenerys, turn around and give me your cunt, now.” He commanded her. At that her eyes widened slightly, and he could see excitement building in her eyes. She leaned up on her knees and then turned her lithe body so that her face was toward his feet, and either knee fell to the side of his head. Impatient, Jon grabbed her hips, and pulled her body down to him.

He feasted, there was no other word for it. He couldn’t get enough of his queen and her taste. Spicy and hot just like her personality, she was the best thing he’d ever had. He ran his tongue up and down the moist folds. His fingers found the bundle of nerves and he moved his fingers in quick circles around it. He could feel her entire body shiver above him. She was still working his cock, moving her hand tightly up and down the shaft and using her tongue and the edge of her teeth to tease him. He was determined to give her release first. He wanted to finish inside of her. Finally, sensing that she was close based on the rhythm of his hips as she shifted on top of him, he moved his fingers quickly across her nerves and stabbed his tongue deep, imitating the motion of his cock.

Dany nearly screamed as she came, and he used the distraction to flip her around. Now she was under him and they were face to face. She grabbed him by the chin and forced him closer. The kiss was messy, tongues battling with each other. At one point, she started licking her juices from his face, and that set him off. He spread her legs wide and plunged his cock into her. She arched against him and screamed. Jon couldn’t bring himself to care if the whole Keep heard them. It didn’t take long before the tight grip of her cunt forced him to release his seed. He made sure she came with him by teasing her nipples and she did, nearly pulling out his hair in the process.

Jon collapsed on top of her but shifted them quickly, so she laid across his chest. Both of them laid there, clinging to one another, breathing hard and trying to force their bodies to calm down. After what seemed like hours, there was a knock on the door of the solar. Jon sighed and kissed Dany’s forehead. Not a word had been spoken between them that wasn’t directly related to their lovemaking. Jon moved from the bed, finding his breeches and shirt on the floor. He pulled them on and moved into the solar, opening the door.

A blushing maid stood on the other side. She curtsied quickly. “Your Grace, the Lord of Winterfell has sent me with your food and requests your presence in his solar as soon as you are able.” He stood back to allow the young girl entry and she set the food on the table along with a pitcher of ale. He saw her eyes dart toward the closed door behind which Dany was still laying in bed. To distract her he asked, “We’ll need some wine for Queen Daenerys. Can you get that for me please?” He asked her politely. She turned and blushed again. “Of course, Your Grace. I’ll return shortly.”

The door closed behind the maid and Jon made his way back to the bedchamber where his queen was sprawled out in all her glory. He bit back a moan and the desire to join her again. “I think it’s time to get up, my queen. We’re being summoned.”

She opened her eyes and looked at him, a soft smile covering her face. “I refuse to leave this bed until I have been properly greeted this morning, my king.”

He felt a smile across his face and he crawled up on the bed toward her. “Making you scream my name wasn’t enough of a greeting for you, Dany?” He leaned down and kissed her smiling lips hard and fast. “Good morning, my love. Thank you for taking the time to wake me in such a pleasurable way.”

Her gaze turned soft as she looked at him. “I love you Jon. I have every intention of showing you that as often as possible.” She responded. He kissed her again, softly this time. He took his time savoring her, burying his hands in her hair and moving slowly. There was no other reaction that was appropriate after that sweet declaration. It amazed him how they could go from scalding hot, the fire blazing between them to soft and sweet in a matter of minutes. They broke apart with a groan when another knock sounded at the door, no doubt the maid with the wine.

***

After dressing for the day, Jon in his leathers and Daenerys in a dark wool dress packed for her by Missandei, they made their way to Robb’s solar. Jon made a note to insist that his brother be moved to the Lord’s chamber. The chamber normally reserved for a visiting monarch was still free and would be fine for him whenever he visited, but his future was on Dragonstone, or King’s Landing, wherever Dany was planning on being. The day to day running of Winterfell and the North was Robb’s responsibility and he should have the Lord’s chambers. It surprised him how much he was willing to leave the keep behind. Winterfell would always be his childhood home, but he had never really fit here, or the place he fit wasn’t a pleasant one. Now, his place was beside his queen, and there was nowhere else he wanted to be.

Jon and Dany entered the room, which was only occupied by the remaining Stark siblings sans Arya and their closest Northern allies. Brienne and Podrick were manning the doors to the chamber. Duran Feller and Larence Snow of the Hornwoods sat at the table along with Lyanna Mormont. Everyone stood as Jon and Daenerys came to the table. Larence, Duran, and Lyanna all bowed low to him murmuring “Your Grace.” They all looked cautiously at Daenerys but gave her a courteous bow of the head. He moved to say something, but Dany put her hand on his arm, shaking her head when their gazes met. The role of the monarchs would be discussed later. They sat in the empty chairs at the table.

“My lords and ladies,” he began. “I am happy to see the combined forces of the Free Folk, the Northmen, the Knights of the Vale, and the Riverlands outside of Winterfell. Can I assume they have all come to fight the army of the dead?”

“They have accepted our invitation to meet with us.” Sansa said coolly, eyeing Daenerys. “Like most people, when they hear we are fighting the army of the dead, they are a bit skeptical. They’ve come out of good faith to the Stark family, not the Targaryens.”

Jon reigned in his temper and nodded slowly. “Both Queen Daenerys and I are aware that earning the trust of the northern kingdoms as House Targaryen will be difficult. We do expect that their loyalty and trust will have to be earned.”

Larence Snow was the one to clear his throat. “Your Grace, no one questions you, you have proven yourself worthy of our loyalty and trust. We all knew you were going to go South as a Targaryen, and that you would likely come back under that banner. Forgive me, but it’s her we don’t trust.” He said nodding to Daenerys. “We named you King, Jon. You have the true birthright and the history in Westeros to be our ruler. Now, we hear from Robb that you have accepted that you will be her heir and nothing more? It makes us very wary, Your Grace.”

“You’re not the only ones with assumptions.” Daenerys said quietly. “I came to Westeros assuming that I would find allies quickly and that there would be more people to back my claim to the throne. In Essos I earned all of my titles by fighting for them. I survived being sold, raped, betrayed, and nearly murdered on several occasions. I had thought incorrectly that my name would give me an easier standing here. I find that over the past few months, I’ve been humbled greatly. I doubt I would have my current alliances if it wasn’t for Jon. Which is why our situation has changed. The last time Robb saw us in Dragonstone, Jon was styled Jon Targaryen, Prince of Dragonstone, my heir. After some…negotiations, we have come to a different arrangement.”

The room was silent staring at Daenerys. He could see admiration in Lyanna Mormont’s eyes. The young woman respected leaders who told her the truth, by humbling herself, Dany had won herself an ally. She could even see the skepticism waning on Sansa’s face, a tough feat to accomplish. Everyone in the room seemed to be waiting for her announcement.

Daenerys took a deep breath and looked at him. He smiled slightly in encouragement. “Jon and I are betrothed to be married. We will rule the Seven Kingdoms together as co-rulers, King and Queen.”

Everyone looked back at them curiously. Robb wasn’t surprised, he knew they shared a bed the night before. Bran looked disinterested, and Duran, Larence, and Lyanna all looked cautiously optimistic. It was Sansa that broke the silence this time. “Did you do this just because you wanted to fuck each other?”

It was Jon who answered his acerbic sister with a sharp response. “We did it because it’s what’s best for all Seven Kingdoms, but the fucking is an excellent benefit.” The men in the room bit down their smiles at his retort to Sansa. There were no signs of anger on Dany’s face, in fact her eyes twinkled at him.

“Does this mean we can expect more help in the Great War?” Duran Feller asked.

“Queen Daenerys was always going to send her forces north, once we had taken King’s Landing. By announcing our impending marriage, we have solidified our alliances in the south and tied up any loose ends in relation to the succession of House Targaryen.” Jon explained. “After we finish taking back the Iron Throne, the Dothraki and the Unsullied will march north to meet the armies stationed here.”

“And the Reach and Dorne?” Questioned Robb. “Will they fight with us here?”

Jon looked at Robb. “I have sent a small contingent of Reach men and Lannisters that were defeated by us at Highgarden, they should be here in about two weeks.”

“Lannister men.” Sansa deadpanned. “You’ve sent Lannisters?”

Jon took a deep breath. “We defeated the Lannister army, or at least a large portion of it. Jaime Lannister and Ser Bronn of the Blackwater escaped back to King’s Landing, but his men surrendered to us after the battle. I sent them and the Tarly men who were part of their alliance here to the North.”

“And you think they’ll make it here?” Sansa said skeptically. “What’s to stop them from disappearing into Westeros?”

“I think Dickon Tarly has enough honor to see that his men get here.” Jon said.

Sansa rolled her eyes. “Only you would believe that a man you forced to surrender has enough honor to bring his men north to fight a war against mythical creatures. I love your sense of duty Jon, but not everyone shares your characteristics. It’s not that I don’t believe you, but I don’t want to see you lose because you’re naïve about the character of the people around you.”

“Speak plainly, Sansa.” Jon said. He was frustrated with her, she always seemed to have a retort, much like Tryion, but lacked even the small bit of tact the man possessed. “If you suspect someone, just say it. Who’s character are we questioning?”

Sansa sighed and exchanged long looks with the other men at the table. She looked nervously at Daenerys. “Your Grace,” Sansa started, addressing Dany. “I don’t know you as well as I know Jon, but between his opinion of you and what Robb has told me, I hope you take my advice the way it is meant.” Sansa took a deep breath and straightened her spine. “I have been working for the last few months to break apart and infiltrate Littlefinger’s network. He uses women for information, and I figured they’d rather work for one of their own than him. Turns out I was right. Using Bran’s vision ability and stealing messages sent to him to our rookery with the help of Maester Wolkan, I found his connections all the way down to King’s Landing. A woman named Clara.”

“The woman I met in King’s Landing.” Jon said, nodding his head.

“You met a woman in King’s Landing?” Dany asked him, raising her eyebrows at him. “While you were there with Davos?”

Jon swallowed hard at the barely shielded anger in her voice. “You know we have an inside source, feeding us information from inside the city.” Daenerys was looking at him with a thinly veiled warning. “Well, Sansa had sent the information and we felt it was important to speak with Clara face to face. So, we visited the brothel where she works in Flea Bottom and…”

“You visited a woman at a brothel in King’s Landing? You risked your safety smuggling your way into that city to visit a woman at a brothel?” Daenerys spoke to him, furiously.

“Yes. I did.” He fired back at her, the dragons awakening in both of them. “And nothing happened. Despite the fact that you were practically pushing me into a future wedding ceremony that didn’t include you! What I did then was none of your business, but you know me, and you should know that I wouldn’t have done anything with anyone else.”

Robb cleared his throat and Jon turned to look at the rest of the room. There was a mixture of reactions, but most seemed to be amused by watching the lovers quarrel in front of them.

“We’ll be speaking more about this later.” Dany said, eyes flashing fire at him. “Sansa, Bran, what do you mean, about visions? Explain it to me.”

Bran looked at the Dragon Queen. “I am the Three-Eyed Raven.” He said in a monotone voice.

Dany looked at Jon and he shrugged. She turned back to Bran. “Am I supposed to know what that means?”

“I see things that were, things that are, and things that might be.” Bran said. “My magic is derived from the Children of the Forest and the Old Gods. I am a watcher, a warg, a sentinel for the living. And there is nothing that is secret to me.”

Daenerys looked skeptically at the youngest Stark. “Prove it to me. Tell me something that I know, but no one else does.”

Bran looked deep into her eyes and Jon shivered at the cold expression on Bran’s face. “You made a deal with a witch that cost you the lives of your husband and son. She cursed you that you would bear a living child only when a prophecy was fulfilled. You believe in this curse so wholeheartedly that you nearly gave up any possibility of a relationship with Jon.”

Jon could see Daenerys go pale, her eyes huge, she grasped the arms of her chair in a death grip. Jon was shocked by the sorrow he felt at hearing the curse that would prevent them from having children together. Daenerys swallowed hard. “Alright, I believe you. I don’t need to hear anything else.” The room was silent, reeling from the information that Bran had presented. Many in the room looked at her with a pitying look and at Jon with a skeptical one. Producing heirs was important business for ruling nobles, no doubt this revelation was leaving some with a sense of confusion at the seemingly impossible future for House Targaryen. Daenerys cleared her throat and looked at Sansa. “Please continue Lady Sansa, with your findings.”

Sansa looked at Daenerys, something shifting in the younger woman. Her whole demeanor had thawed out towards the Dragon Queen after learning of her fate. The ice that was in her eyes just minutes before became a soft muted blue. “Petyr Baelish has been responsible for so much more than we knew. I always knew that he had an obsession with our mother, Catelyn Stark, born Tully. He was furious that she married into House Stark. Through his correspondence with his female employees, we learned that he desires nothing more than power. He told me as much when we traveled together through the Vale. He married our Aunt Lysa, not because he loved her, as she thought, but because he wanted control of the Vale, which he now has through Robin Arryn. He poisoned Jon Arryn, using Lysa to do it. That act forced father to accept the role of Hand of the King and move south. Then there’s arguably his worst crime. It was Petyr Baelish who sent the assassin to kill Bran. It was his dagger, not Tyrion’s.”

Jon’s brain was working hard to catch up. For most of these events he was either an oblivious child or a man of the Night’s Watch. He failed to try and connect the dots. He must have looked lost, because it was Robb who summarized. “He betrayed us all, all of House Stark. The conflict between the Lannisters and Starks only existed because of Baelish’s actions.” Robb explained. “Through his manipulations, he’s committed both treason and murder. Both are punishable by death.”

“Do you have proof?” Jon asked seriously. “It’s not worth trying him without proof.”

Sansa nodded her head. “I will testify that he murdered Lysa, I was there. He manipulated Lysa for years and had her do his bidding. The dagger he brought here himself, but he doesn’t believe in Bran’s abilities. He underestimated him.” Sansa looked at Bran proudly. “We have sworn testimonies from many women telling their secrets. Their condition for participation was that he was put to death. They’ll face the same if he survives. He’s been working hard to drive a wedge between me and my siblings, especially you, Jon. He wants the throne for himself and he’ll do anything to get it.”

“What do we gain from trying and executing Petyr Baelish?” Daenerys asked.

“The Vale and the Riverlands.” Sansa answered. “Without Baelish, Robin Arryn will be free from his influence. He’ll most likely lean more heavily on Lord Yohn Royce and Ser Harrold Hardyng. Both will back us if we get rid of Littlefinger for them. There’s no love lost there. Royce hates Baelish more than he does the Free Folk, and that’s saying something.” Jon snorted then. He remembered Lord Royce’s bitter words against the Free Folk and himself. “Littlefinger was childhood friends with the Tullys, but I don’t think Edmure will take well to his betrayal of one sister, murder of another, and his obsession with his niece. Also, with him gone, we might be able to undo any work he might have done amongst your own forces.” Daenerys looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “Littlefinger is no fool. He knows your power. He wouldn’t be able to leave it alone. I’m trying to tell you that Baelish has someone within your camp.”

Daenerys looked impressively at Sansa. “Who?”

Sansa winced. “It has to be Varys or Tyrion. He wouldn’t trust anyone else and both of them know that he’s good for the information. They’ll all think they’re using the other, when in reality they’ll all get caught. For too long, men like this have been playing with our lives like a game of cyvasse. No one is safe until we eradicate them.”

“And how do I know that you won’t turn out to be the same?” Daenerys asked her seriously. Jon went to intercept, but Sansa took a deep breath and looked at the Queen.

“I have no quarrel with you, Your Grace.” Sansa said. “I did at first. You were taking away the birthright from the man I thought would be the best for the job. But now that you and Jon are getting married and ruling together, I’ll do anything I can to help you both. I can’t promise that I trust you, I don’t know you yet, but I want to help my family and that includes Jon and he’s including you.”

“What do you want in return?” Daenerys asked. “Everyone wants something.”

Sansa nodded. “I once wanted Northern independence. I thought we could be free from southern rule. I’ve since been convinced by my brothers and advisors that it is not possible. The North relies too much on resources in the south, and with the Great War approaching we need everyone we can get. If I were the one inheriting Winterfell, I might feel differently, but Robb is the Warden of the North, and he has no desire for independence.” Sansa took a deep breath.

Jon knew it was a hard admission for her to make. Sansa had become a fierce woman who wanted what was best for her people. “I would just ask that I be left alone to make my own decisions. I have been a token all my life. A marriage arrangement for my parents. A hostage to the Lannisters. A pawn to be sacrificed for Baelish. I just want a choice. I want to be left alone to decide my fate. I don’t want anyone to have a say in my life. I don’t want anyone making decisions for me.”

Daenerys nodded for a long moment. “I think you and I will be if not good friends, then excellent allies, my lady. I think you’ve more than earned your independence. If anyone tries to tell you what to do, they’ll face dragon fire.” Sansa raised her chin proudly and nodded curtly to Daenerys. “So, we need to take care of Petyr Baelish.”

“The only question is, how do we catch the slimy bastard for a trial?” Lyanna Mormont asked with a wrinkled nose.

***

So much of Jon’s life had turned out vastly different than he’d ever thought it could be, but nothing was odder than sitting in the center of the high table in the great hall of Winterfell. It was the greatest place of honor in the room. Daenerys sat to his left, also in the center. Robb was on his right, a show of the strong bond between the two brothers. Sansa, interestingly enough, had chosen to sit on the other side of Daenerys. He was grateful to his sister for showing deference to his betrothed. Bran sat on the far end of the table, on the other side of Sansa. Had Arya been present, she most likely would have filled the empty chair next to Robb. It was left there in her honor.

Before them stood representatives of the North, the Vale, the Riverlands, and the Free Folk. Tormund had nearly lost his mind when he saw Daenerys and had barely taken his eyes off her since. Robb had pointed out Edmure Tully in the crowd, in full armor covered in fish scale detail. Robin Arryn was seated between Yohn Royce and Petyr Baelish, the latter whispering in the young lord’s ear. At the introduction of Jon and Daenerys Targaryen the room had gone silent and every eye seemed to be fixed upon himself and Dany. For the first time, Jon was nervous about his decision to bring her with him, not all the faces were friendly. She took it well, sitting proudly at the table, surrounded by his family. The Stark guards surrounded the area in which the family sat and Brienne and Podrick stood silently behind Sansa. Daenerys was as protected as she could be if things went bad.

Jon cleared his throat and stood. There had been a long planning session on how to go about today’s business. It fascinated him how much it was like a battle plan, but instead of troop movements over a field they had discussed the seating arrangements. This was a battle, just a different one than he was used to. Sansa and Daenerys had discussed how the day would go for hours in preparation. He was happy to see them working together and could tell his stoic sister had been captivated by Dany’s sharp mind and need for justice. “My lords and ladies, welcome to Winterfell.” Jon said with a strong voice. “We will never be able to repay your loyalty and bravery in amassing to fight our common enemy.”

“The last common enemy we had was a Targaryen.” Edmure shouted across the hall. “And now, we’re to bow to one? Why should we do that?” Jon took a deep breath and glared at the man. He wanted to control the narrative, but Jon couldn’t let the conversation get off track.

His frustration mounted as men all over the room mumbled approvingly. His feelings were echoed by a piercing sound that filled the room. The roar of three dragons circling overhead had everyone in the room gasping.

“Apart from the fact that we have three fire breathing dragons,” Jon answered as if bored. “We’re also your best hope against Cersei Lannister and Euron Greyjoy.”

“Greyjoy controls the sea.” Lord Royce said. “Why should we be concerned?”

“Isn’t Runestone on the coast, Lord Royce?” Jon asked, perplexed. “You should be very concerned by who controls the sea. We all should be. Euron Greyjoy is a thing of nightmares, he makes Ramsay Bolton look like child’s play.” The northmen shuddered at that, many of their houses had felt the wrath of the failed Warden of the North.

“Both Queen Daenerys and I are aware that our family name does not inspire loyalty amongst you.” Jon continued. “And while we have no problem giving our enemies fire and blood, we would prefer to not count you among them. You may not trust Targaryens, you all have good reason not to, but I’d ask you to trust Jon and Daenerys.”

There were a few nods in the crowd and some murmuring. “My lords, the last thing I want to bring you is more war. We’ve all had enough to last multiple lifetimes. We want our conflicts to be over, for our people to be safe and prosperous. That will never happen with Cersei on the throne. She will always seek more than she needs, she will crush anyone to get what she deems is necessary. We once again find ourselves living in the shadow of a mad ruler, a tyrant, and once again we call on the North to defend our freedoms. While we are fighting in the south for our way of life, you are fighting for our very lives. No one understands that better than me. I’ve seen our enemy, I’ve faced him on the battlefield, I know what is coming. We need to have a united Westeros if we’re going to survive this winter.”

The voices in the hall grew louder and men turned and discussed Jon’s words. Faces were softening instead of hardening. He could see the tide turning in the crowd towards him.

“And what will we earn as we fight for you, Your Grace?” A slithering, smooth voice came from the Vale contingent. “Will you give our lands to the Dothraki and Unsullied? To the Free Folk? You have allied yourself with barbarians and yet speak to us about preserving our way of life.” Baelish said standing next to Robin.

Jon smiled softly at the man. “Lord Baelish, I don’t think you have any lands for me to give away.”

There was a shadow of a smile that crossed Yohn Royce’s face quickly before it disappeared. Jon could also see a young man behind Lord Royce stand a little taller at Baelish’s public verbal lashing. Harrold Hardyng also wasn’t a fan of the brothel owner.

Littlefinger recovered quickly. “I am a representative for my liege lord, Robin Arryn. I am responsible for seeing that his lands are protected.”

“Lord Robin is here. I know he is perfectly capable of speaking.” Sansa said then. “If he’s worried about the Eyrie perhaps he should speak for himself.” The Vale commanders nodded and vocalized their agreement with Sansa’s statement.

The young boy stood. He was sickly looking but was obviously strong enough to stand on his own and speak. “I am perfectly happy with allowing Lord Baelish to speak for me. He was my mother’s beloved husband and trusted above all others. He is a shining example of the character of the men of the Vale.”

The reaction of the Vale men behind Robin was visceral. Most of the commanders and knights looked horrified to be compared to the ‘paragon of virtue’ that was Petyr Baelish. Harrold Hardyng’s face turned to stone and his eyes blazed at Baelish. It was obvious the young knight didn’t blame his naïve young cousin, but the guardian of the young boy instead.

This was the opening that they were waiting for, Jon looked to Sansa who nodded slowly. “It’s interesting that you would bring Lord Baelish’s character into the discussion, Lord Arryn. We’ve had reports of a rather alarming nature concerning Littlefinger.” Up until that point, he hadn’t used the man’s hated nickname, but the tables had just been flipped. As if sensing this, Baelish swung around quickly. Robb nodded to the northmen lining the back of the hall and they moved into position, creating a blocked off square in front of the high table and before the doors.

Jon returned to his seat as Baelish’s eyes moved to Sansa. “Are you sure you want to do this, Sansa?”

“I’m sure that I no longer want to stand by and watch you control the world around you by stirring up chaos.” Sansa answered. “I must defend my family from those who would harm us, and the North from those who would betray us. Isn’t that what you told me Lord Baelish, when you asked me to betray my brothers and steal Winterfell from them?”

Baelish swallowed hard as both Robb and Jon looked at him. Edmure stood and moved closer for a better look at the proceedings. “You stand accused of murder and treason, Lord Baelish. How do you answer these charges?” Sansa asked coldly.

“Murder? Who exactly am I meant to have murdered, Lady Sansa?” Baelish said.

Sansa stared at him. “You murdered our aunt, Lysa Arryn. You pushed her through the moon door and watched her fall. Do you deny it?” A sound came from the other side of the room and Jon watched as Edmure Tully took an involuntary step toward Lord Baelish. Whether it was to protect his childhood friend or confront his sister’s murderer, Jon couldn’t tell.

“I did it to protect you.” Baelish said, trying to throw blame. “She would have killed you, you know that.” Jon was disgusted.

“It was not self-defense. You were simply ready to be rid of her. You did it to take power in the Vale, but that wasn’t the first time you tried to do that.” Sansa paused, every person in the room was riveted on the scene before them. “You had to get rid of Aunt Lysa because you gave her tears of Lys to poison Jon Arryn. Do you deny it?”

“Whatever your aunt told you, she was a troubled woman. She imagined enemies everywhere.” A growl sounded from the side of the room. Edmure Tully looked furious at the now known murder and betrayal of his sister.

“You had Lysa send a letter to Lord Eddard Stark and Lady Catelyn Stark saying it was the Lannisters who murdered Jon Arryn, when really it was you. You preyed upon the familial and friendly bonds between the Starks and Arryns. You started the conflict between House Stark and House Lannister. You conspired with Cersei Lannister and Robert Baratheon to betray our father, Ned Stark. Thanks to your treachery he was imprisoned and later executed on false charges of treason. Do you deny it?” Sansa’s voice was biting as it echoed through the hall. The pain in her voice was clear.

“I deny it.” Baelish said loudly. He turned to look at Robin Arryn who was staring at Baelish in confusion and horror. He turned to look around the room. “None of you were there to see what happened. Lord Stark was caught in his own lies by the Lannisters.” Baelish was panicking now. Insinuating Ned Stark was truly guilty of treason was dangerous with allies sitting in this room and the Northmen bristled at the insinuation.

“You held a knife to his throat.” Bran’s voice was strong. “You said, ‘I did warn you not to trust me.’” Baelish looked at him with shock.

“You told our mother that this knife belonged to Tyrion Lannister.” Robb said, holding a Valyrian steel dagger. “But that was just another one of your lies. It was yours. The knife that was used to try and kill our brother.”

Baelish was starting to visibly shake now, he moved toward the high table and stood right in front of Sansa. Robb rose from the table immediately and moved to the other side. Sansa held up her hand as Baelish spoke to her. “Lady Sansa, I have known you since you were a girl, I protected you.”

“Protected me?” She asked, interrupting. “By selling me to the Boltons? By trying to turn me against my brothers? My brothers, who have been the only ones to actually protect me? Jon and Robb were the ones to get rid of Ramsay Bolton. You’ve only ever protected one person, Lord Baelish, and it’s not me.”

“I am the Lord Protector of the Vale,” he shouted towards Daenerys. “I demand a trial before septons.”

“As the rightful queen of the Seven Kingdoms and not a member of either house you are accused of betraying, I have every right to stand in judgement of you, Lord Baelish.” She said strongly.

“Then I’ll make you a deal.” Baelish pleaded. “My life, in exchange for information. Don’t you want to know who it is? Who in your camp has been conspiring against you? And to what end? I know. And I’ll tell you, for my life.”

A shiver ran down Jon’s back. There was someone in Daenerys’s camp that was betraying her, it was happening in real time. He clenched his jaw to keep from demanding he tell them his secrets. They had a plan for information gathering later. Sansa had warned them that he would use this as a last bargaining chip. They had to stay strong.

Daenerys simply looked at him. “The problem is Lord Baelish; I believe you’re more trouble than your information is worth.”

Baelish’s eyes scanned the high table back and forth, looking for an ally. He knelt on the floor in front of them. Disgusted looks hit him from all sides as the warriors of the northern kingdoms watched him grovel. He settled on Sansa and whispered her name. She leveled him with a cold look. “Thank you for all your many lessons, Lord Baelish.”

“Lord Petyr Baelish, you have been found guilty of murder and treason.” Daenerys said strongly. “Is there anyone here who would like to say anything else?”

“He’s responsible for the death of both my mother and my father.” Robin Arryn said with a small tearful voice. “He has done irreparable damage to the kingdom of the Vale. I ask Your Grace, that his punishment be carried out now.”

“I second my nephew’s admonition, Your Grace.” Edmure Tully said, standing and glaring at the sniveling man on his knees. His eyes were filled with hatred.

The tension in the room continued to build and silence reigned. Baelish’s weak sobs echoed around the hall. “Very well.” Daenerys said with finality. She nodded her head and Robb unsheathed his new Valyrian steel sword and cut of Baelish’s head with one smooth stroke.


	18. Daenerys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daenerys and Jon continue to build trust and alliances in the North. Daenerys grows closer with Sansa as they try to uncover Baelish’s plan. Dany and Jon return to Dragonstone as Euron rears his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Wednesday!
> 
> I'm so excited for this chapter, it got away from me a little bit and is kind of long, but totally worth the read in my opinion. I know I've been a bit absent from the comment section, I have read everyone's thoughts and responded to some of you, it's just been a busy week or so. 
> 
> Thank you to my beta, AbstractlySydney for the help.

Daenerys stood on the walkway above the training courtyard. Down below, Jon was standing in the middle of the small crowd, Longclaw in his hand as he surveyed the trainees before him. She loved watching Jon train. There was nothing that heated her blood like watching Jon spar with his sword. However today, her reaction was not in the region of her sex, but a sweet burning in her chest. Jon stood with a large group of young boys who all had either blunt training swords or sets of bows and arrows. They all watched him with a look of reverence.

Just when she thought she had come to terms with never having a living child, she had to watch her lover interact with children. The truth was, she’d love nothing more than to give him a child, a future for House Targaryen. It would always be a sore spot for her. She felt a familiar spike of anger at her younger self for her desperate actions. She watched him gently guide the young boys into the correct hand placement and stance. A soft smile came to her face as she saw him cuff a young boy on the chin when he wasn’t paying attention. Jon returned her smile as he looked up to meet her eyes.

“I remember right before we all left Winterfell. Jon and Robb were training Bran and Rickon in the same way.” Dany turned to Sansa as she walked toward her with a serene smile on her face. Daenerys had noticed a lot of Sansa’s stress had melted away since Baelish had lost his head the day before. Sansa chuckled lightly. “Of course, Arya always made her presence known. Mother never approved of her training, but I think father quietly did. Either way, Jon could never resist training her when she asked.”

“Now I’m pretty sure she could teach him a thing or two.” Dany smiled back. “She’s quite formidable, your sister.”

“She’s strange.” Sansa said with a furrowed brow. “I respect her and her abilities, but they scare me.”

“Good thing she’s on our side then.” Dany said amused.

“I hope so.” Sansa said. “Can I be honest with you, Your Grace?”

Daenerys nodded. “I wish you would be, my lady.”

“I know you and Jon intend to be married so I suspect you already know some about me, but I’d rather you hear it from me.” Sansa paused and looked over the courtyard and sighed. She was quiet for so long that Dany wasn’t sure she’d actually continue. “Arya and I never got along as children. She was always closest to Jon. I know her loyalty to him is unwavering. But to me, I’m not so sure. We seemed to be polar opposite in all ways.” She paused for a long moment. “I think she blames me for what happened to our parents.”

Dany looked at the younger woman curiously. “Why would she blame you?”

Sansa took a deep breath and looked nervous. “I was a child at first in King’s Landing. A prisoner of House Lannister. I was never called that, but it’s what I was. When my father was pressured to confess treason, Cersei used me as collateral. I didn’t know what I was doing, what my words would bring about. It was my actions that allowed them to charge him with treason. I was the reason he gave up his honor. They beheaded him in front of me. It wasn’t silent like it was with Baelish, people were screaming horrible things, and I was forced to watch. It was horrible, and that’s really when the horror started for me. I was supposed to marry Joffrey, but I lost favor, so they married me to Tyrion.”

Dany raised her eyebrows at that last fact.

Sansa looked at her confused. “You didn’t know?” Dany shook her head. “Everyone knew. Cersei made sure of that. They married me to him and made me a traitor to my house and Robb. At least he was good to me, Tyrion. He never touched me, and he was kind.”

Daenerys fell silent for a long moment. “Tyrion came to me at a time when I desperately needed guidance on what to do with Westeros, but my frustration with him is mounting and Jon doesn’t trust him. Do I need to be concerned about him?” Daenerys asked seriously.

Sansa looked thoughtful for a long moment. “I don’t know. Honestly. I don’t think he’s the best choice for your hand if I’m completely honest, but I don’t know whether or not he’d betray you. Tyrion is a selfish man; he will nearly always put himself first. I don’t expect you to take my advice, in fact I would be shocked if you did, you may be marrying my brother, but you still don’t know me.”

Daenerys watched the younger woman turn toward the courtyard. “Don’t dismiss me, Lady Sansa. I may be marrying your brother, but he’s just taking his place next to me, the throne is already mine. I welcome any and all advice and I don’t do anything until I have fully thought through all the consequences.”

“Good.” Sansa said with a grin. “I was concerned you might have been blinded by your feelings for Jon.

Dany’s frustration boiled over. “Why does everyone think that? Tyrion suggested the same thing. Just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean I get distracted from my goals. I aligned myself with Jon originally because he was my best shot at gaining the northern kingdoms. I fell in love with him, but my plans haven’t changed, I am the Queen and I will rule the Seven Kingdoms.”

Sansa eyed her carefully with a glimmer more of respect and then looked back at the training courtyard, watching Jon and Robb below. “Is it true that you can’t have children? That you made a deal with a witch?”

Dany sighed. “Like you, I was once young, naïve, and desperate. I was sold to my first husband by my brother. There was no love there at the beginning. By the end, I was in a better position than I started, but it still wasn’t comfortable. I was pregnant with our son when he was cut, and it got infected. I asked a woman to help, and she used black magic to bring him back, but in the process, I lost my son, and my husband wasn’t my husband. What I thought I wanted and needed at the time cost me the future of my house.” Dany smiled sadly at Sansa. “Now I have a man who I’ve been dreaming about for years, literally, a man I love, and I’ll never be able to give him children.”

Sansa looked back down at Jon. “Having children was never ambition of Jon’s. I know that’s hard to believe, but it’s true. He was raised a bastard and he never wanted that for his future. When he left for the Wall, I know he thought it would be for life. He never expected to have anything like the relationship you two seem to have.”

Dany smiled at the last comment. She and Jon had moved to the rooms usually reserved for the monarch of the Seven Kingdoms. The rooms were slightly smaller than the Lord’s chambers, but the materials were just as rich. Jon had put his foot down with Robb and insisted that the Lord’s chambers belonged to the Lord of Winterfell. Dany thought the fact that Sansa had complained about the noise they made at night had something to do with how fast Jon had them moved. She wasn’t ashamed of her relationship with Jon, but apparently, they were rather vocal. Their new chambers were still in the great keep, and close to the family wing, but didn’t share any walls with his siblings.

“You’re different than I thought you’d be.” Sansa said seriously.

“What were you expecting?” Daenerys asked.

Sansa shrugged. “I think I just imagined you to come in and take over, want to subjugate us like Aegon did 300 years ago.”

Daenerys eyed the younger woman. “I probably would have if it wasn’t for Jon. I’d prefer to make an alliance with the North, not conquer it. One of my advisors in Meereen called me a conqueror and I realized I didn’t like the term, and I didn’t like the connotation.” Daenerys sighed. “Earlier in my life it was imperative to me that I reclaim the throne for my family, but the longer I’ve gone, I realize that the goal of trouncing the usurper was one that was fueled by my brother. He was obsessed with reclaiming our rightful place. I want more than that. I want to build something that will last long after I’m gone. I want to build a world where the smallfolk aren’t trampled and where women don’t have to do the bidding of the men around them.”

“Pretty words. I bet they’re not really appreciated by the men who serve you.” Sansa said, eyebrows raised.

“The noble men who serve me never had to live on the streets as beggars. They were never sold to the highest bidder. They’ve never fought with and defended those considered savages. For those reasons, I find some of my Westerosi advisors to be lacking. Varys was once a slave, he understands, but he has his own agenda.” Dany turned fully toward Sansa. “Do you know who Baelish was talking to? He alluded to someone within my council that is betraying me. Of all the members of my closest council I would think it would be Varys.”

Sansa shrugged. “He would be my first guess. He serves whoever he likes in the moment. It would not be a shock to see him switch alliances. But unlike Baelish, Varys doesn’t want the throne for himself, and I doubt he was backing Littlefinger for it.”

Dany nodded. “He considers himself a servant of the general people of Westeros. I thought that would align us even closer, but I find that I just don’t trust him. I did tell Tyrion I would burn Varys alive if he betrayed me and for a while I was concerned about him favoring Jon over me for the throne.”

“It’s not impossible.” Sansa said, obviously reasoning it out. “Obviously I feel he has the stronger claim and as I’m sure you’ve come to know; he is a natural leader.” Sansa paused for a moment. “There is one way to find out for sure who Baelish was in contact with.”

“How?” Dany questioned.

“Littlefinger kept a ledger with him at all times. I think most people assumed it was his financial accounts, but I don’t think it was.” Sansa said.

Dany rolled the thoughts over in her head. “You think he kept track of his correspondences and secrets?”

“If we find it and read it, then we’ll have proof.” Sansa said, shrugging.

“Us?” Dany asked shocked. “You want the two of us to go find it?”

“If we get caught, your position will get us out of any trouble, and besides, no one will suspect two noblewomen to be sneaking around.” Sansa explained with an eye roll. “I’ve learned a lot about what is suspicious and what isn’t from the maids I’m working with. I find that Baelish’s network is a very empowering group of women.”

“Yes, including the women you send Jon to treat with.” Dany said with a bite to her voice.

Sansa chuckled. “Your Grace, he’s not looking at anyone else. I can see his moonstruck eyes from here.”

They both laughed at that. “Yes. I do seem to have him rather enamored with me. The feeling is entirely mutual I assure you. He’s rather distracting.” She looked down at Jon again and smiled. Sansa huffed out a breath, annoyed by their distraction. “Come on, Your Grace.” Sansa prodded her to follow into the keep.

Daenerys and Sansa crept through the castle as if hiding from their guardians. Dany felt like she was a carefree teenager again as they made their way around the keep. They moved up one staircase and down another. Dany was sure she’d be totally lost without Sansa. “This place is huge, and every passageway looks the same.” Dany said.

Sansa grinned and shrugged. “It makes infiltrating it much more difficult. His rooms were at the end of this hall.”

As the two women neared Littlefinger’s rooms, they heard voices coming from inside. Sansa stopped her by putting her hand on her shoulder. “It’s Robin Arryn, and maybe Ser Harrold, I don’t quite recognize his voice.”

“Lady Sansa, who knew you were quite the spy?” Dany teased her. “I’ll distract them while you look for the ledger.”

Dany straightened her dress and entered the room unannounced. At once both young men sprung to their feet in front of her. The extremely attractive blond man bowed his head. “Your Grace.” Robin Arryn quickly followed the lead of his older cousin.

“Ser Harrold, Lord Arryn. I thought I would stop by and say hello. You two are some of the men I know the least about.” Daenerys said pleasantly. She moved into the room toward the sideboard where there was a carafe of wine and cups sitting out. She poured herself a goblet and turned to look at both men who were watching her closely. Daenerys watched as Sansa snuck quietly into the room behind the men.

Harrold Hardyng shoved his chest out in front of him. He was an attractive man but had none of Jon’s ruggedness. Nothing stirred in her like it did for her betrothed. Nevertheless, she smiled at him to distract him from the subterfuge occurring behind him. Robin just looked lost. “Tell me, my lords. I was speaking with Lord Staunton of Rook’s Rest and he said that the Vale has shirked its responsibility to reign in the hill tribes. In fact, my Dothraki had to take care of the problem. Is there a reason you have failed to do your duty?”

Ser Harrold’s eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his head. Robin simply shook his head and answered, “Uncle Petyr took care of all that. He said the Crownlands weren’t our responsibility.”

“Interesting.” Daenerys said sternly. “Forgive me, but are your house words not ‘As high as honor’?”

“Obviously, this was overlooked, Your Grace.” Harrold Hardyng answered immediately. “We will make sure the situation is completely under control when we return to the Vale after this war with the dead.”

“And what do you think about the war with the dead?” Daenerys asked with a bite. She saw Sansa move into the solar from the bedchamber, she was clutching a thin leather book.

“Well, His Grace says that they’re real and I don’t think he’s the type of person to believe in nonsense.” Harrold said nervously. “He doesn’t seem to be the type to be given to flights of fancy.”

“He definitely is not.” Daenerys said regally. “I can only hope that you represent your kingdom well in the war to come. Thank you for your time, my lords, and the wine. I will look forward to visiting the Eyrie when the wars are ended.” She smiled at them.

Both let out a deep breath and politely bid her goodbye. They exchanged a small look of confusion between them. No doubt they were confused by the quick conversation. Dany hadn’t even had time to drink her wine. She moved quickly out of the room and back into the passageway. Sansa was waiting for her down at the end of the hall. When she reached the redhead, both of them burst into laughter. Daenerys couldn’t help but feel her heart thaw toward her lover’s devious sister. “I know you said you and Arya never got along but you’re both fierce. My kind of women.” Dany said.

Sansa smiled hugely at her.

***

Jon and Daenerys spent some time meeting with allies over the next two days. Sansa was still reading through Littlefinger’s book which did appear to be a record of his financial transactions and his interactions across Westeros. Dany was becoming slightly anxious, they needed to get back to the armies at King’s Landing.

Jon and Daenerys had met with Robin Arryn and Harrold Hardyng. They had spoken privately about them after the men left their solar. Jon didn’t like either man, he found Robin to be lacking in basic skills and seemed to have a mean streak to him. Harrold was too shallow. He knew he was attractive and tried his best to shine next to his cousin. Both of them knew that Hardyng stood to inherit the Eyrie if anything happened to the sickly Robin, and there were many rumors about the young knight’s ambition. Both men had expressed that they were impressed with Daenerys and pledged the Vale to House Targaryen in the wars to come. They knelt to both Jon and Daenerys and pledged their loyalty. Despite their reticence about both young men, their respect for both of them as monarchs endeared them to Dany. Dany was concerned Jon would take issue with it, but Jon insisted it was right. “They should kneel to you. It’s your vision we’re creating and I want to set a precedent that you hold just as much if not more power than I do.” Jon had said.

Dany smiled at her partner, he looked relaxed at home in Winterfell in a way she had rarely seen him outside of their bed. She expressed her concern about the men to him. “They’re fighting for themselves. If the North falls, the Vale is next. I don’t want to give them an out to decide they don’t like their alliance with a queen after all of this.”

Jon had just shrugged. “The Vale is aligned with us for now and after we win the war with the dead, we’ll have all the kingdoms and three dragons. You’ll be hard to say no to.” His eyes had twinkled at her and she instantly relaxed. It was a huge relief to have him with her through all of this and his cool head was a huge help.

Edmure Tully had been an entirely different exchange. The man was obsessed with proving himself a worthy lord of Riverrun and there was a deep seeded hatred of the Lannisters in place with Tully. It was the Lannisters who had ordered the man to remain a prisoner for much of the last few years. Dany also noticed that there seemed to be a very antagonistic relationship between him and Robb. She wasn’t sure what the history was between the two men, but they were clearly at odds. It was especially hard for her to accept Edmure as an ally based on how he treated Jon.

Robb and Sansa had explained that their mother, Catelyn Stark had been very cold toward Jon. She believed him to be Ned’s bastard son and she felt offended by having to raise him beside his trueborn siblings. Not to mention that he was a constant reminder of her husband’s infidelity. Dany thought the obsession with bastards was odd. She thought back to the conversation with Ser Horas Redwyne about the perception of bastards in Westeros. This was becoming one of her more important issues going forward. She wanted to create a place where bastards weren’t seen as carnal creatures simply because of the situation of their birth. Jon obviously saw the wheels turning in her head as she fumed and offered her a small smile.

Edmure obviously held the same contempt for Jon as his sister had. They were only an hour into their meeting with the Tully lord when she broke after another snide comment regarding Jon. “Lord Edmure, King Jon is a legitimate Targaryen and the rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms. He will be your king despite your obvious disdain for him. I want to be clear that I believe he is of exemplary character and will be an excellent king for all of Westeros. If you have a problem with that, I will consider the Riverlands in open rebellion against House Targaryen. Any houses in open rebellion will be met with dragon fire.”

The red-haired man swallowed thickly. “I apologize, Your Grace. You’re right, he is the king and swearing my banners to House Targaryen means accepting that.”

Out of the corner of her eye she could see the approving looks of Robb and Sansa. Daenerys had no patience for anyone questioning the integrity of her betrothed. He was the best of men. The talks with Edmure went much faster after that. The Riverlands would pledge their men to the Great War and stand with House Targaryen for the Iron Throne to ensure the Lannisters were thoroughly ousted.

Dany’s favorite part of the meetings in the North was watching Jon with the houses of the North and the Free Folk. He might be hesitant to wear a crown, but it was obvious he was beloved in the North. Lyanna Mormont was a staunch advocate for him and House Hornwood respected him greatly. She was fascinated watching him with Houses Umber and Karstark. Both groups had been his enemies on the battlefield fighting for Winterfell, but his choice to leave the keeps with their families had earned him their loyalty despite being bitter enemies earlier. Even Sansa had admitted that the choice had eventually been the correct one. There was obviously no love lost between Jon and some of the other houses. Cerwyn, Manderly, and Glover all seemed to be a little colder toward him, but he didn’t allow any nonsense from them and the men responded to his strong leadership. Perhaps the most interesting interaction was regarding the Free Folk.

“I’m actually surprised, Your Grace.” Lord Manderly said to Jon. “I had thought that the presence of the wildlings at the Dreadfort would cause us endless problems, but I’ve heard nigh a peep from that area.” Both Alice Karstark and Ned Umber nodded in agreement.

“That’s because we feed our people.” Tormund said harshly. “You all don’t give a shit about your little people. The Free Folk know that everyone needs to be fed or they don’t help. We hunt and they reap and sow. The snows are coming in and grain is getting harder to come by. This is our element now.”

“You feed the villagers too?” Lord Glover asked.

Tormund looked at the older stout man like he was crazy. “Of course we do, we don’t need that much fat to get through the winter.” He said nodding toward Glover’s distended belly. “We give them food, they give us food, we all survive.”

Dany couldn’t help but admire the matter-of-fact way the Free Folk handled their business. There was no hierarchy, they all worked together. They obviously had leadership, and they all looked at Jon as if he was a god, but they treated everyone the same. It reminded her somewhat of the Dothraki, that mentality of living to survive. She smiled at Tormund, he was staring at her and had been since he had seen her. He nodded to her. “You’re the Dragon Queen?” She nodded back.

Glover looked at Tormund disgusted. “Don’t get any ideas, wildling. She’s a noblewoman of House Targaryen.”

Tormund glowered at Glover. “She’s a beauty, but too small for me. I got my eyes on the big woman.” Tormund nodded to where Brienne stood by the door. She sent a disgruntled look his way and Dany struggled not to laugh. “Besides, she’s fucking Snow. I don’t need his seconds.”

Jon looked at her horrified, hoping she wouldn’t be offended by the man. On the contrary she lost her battle with her laughter and it burst from her. “You couldn’t keep up with me anyway Giantsbane.” She said back to him.

Tormund raised his horn of goat’s milk in her direction. “Too right, I don’t know what to do with a dragon. Bet King Crow does though, doesn’t he?”

She nodded back at the wild man. “He definitely does.”

Tormund smiled at Jon who was blushing like a maid. “I like her Snow.” Then he turned to her. “Better you than the queen who fucks her brother.”

That finally got a reaction from the other Northern Lords who all agreed with the Free Folk leader.

Just as the meeting with the Northern leaders was wrapping up, the door opened and the maester rushed in. “A raven for Her Grace.” He handed the scroll to Daenerys. It was from Tyrion and she read it quickly. She looked up and dismissed everyone but Jon, Robb, and Sansa. Dany quickly handed the scroll to Jon for him to read and turned to Sansa.

“I need to know what you found out about Baelish.” She said seriously. “And I need you to be honest. Subterfuge and disloyalty won’t be rewarded with me.”

Sansa nodded firmly, pulled out the thin black book, and placed it on the table. She held her head high and looked at her brothers and the queen. Dany felt a spark of pride in the young woman who was obviously coming into her own as she was acknowledged. “His main income was from brothels, we knew that already, but he was also siphoning money away from the Eyrie. It looks like he was stashing it somewhere near Harrenhal. He was technically its lord when he died. I don’t know what the exact plan was, but it’s obvious he was going to work his way to the Iron Throne. It appears he either intended to use me or Robin to get there. Robb being here threw a wrench into his plans with me. He almost had Varys convinced to back Robin if it came to it, but then Jon’s revelation came to light. There was a lot of correspondence between them over the last few months, but it’s what Baelish intercepted between Varys and a man named Illyrio Mopatis that is damning.”

The entire room looked to Daenerys. Her blood boiled and anger started to cloud her vision. “Illyrio Mopatis was the magister in Pentos that helped facilitate my marriage to Khal Drogo. He claimed to be a staunch supporter of House Targaryen. He prefers male heirs.” She said looking at Jon. He took a deep breath and looked like he was bracing himself for whatever was coming next. “Illyrio backed Viserys despite the fact that he was weak and cruel. He’d back anyone with a Targaryen name and a cock.”

Sansa nodded. “That’s true according to this.” Sansa sighed long and hard. “Are you sure you want to know this?” Daenerys nodded her head. Sansa looked down at the book and then back up at her. “Varys and Illyrio have plans to wed Jon to Arianne Martell. They want Jon on the throne. I don’t know how they were going to get you out of the way, but it’s clear that’s their intention.”

The room was silent for a long moment, shocked by the revelation before Robb finally spoke. “Is Arianne in agreement with this plan? Or was she a pawn to be brought in later?”

Daenerys didn’t need to hear what Sansa was going to say next. The Dornish princess had traveled extensively. She had connections across the Narrow Sea, one of which could definitely be Illyrio Mopatis. She was ambitious and obviously attracted to Jon. It wouldn’t have taken much convincing. Dany knew there had to be more to her refusal to leave Dragonstone beyond her fear of Euron. It was obvious the Dornishwoman had been in on this plan for some time.

Sansa continued. “When Jon was named Prince of Dragonstone and Daenerys was refusing to marry him, it was easy to marry him to Arianne. They approached her then and she accepted the deal. It’s impossible to tell from these missives if she intended to marry Jon as Daenerys’s heir and then naturally assume the throne when it was time, or if she was outright plotting to kill her fast and take the throne before she had a chance. Now, they would have to assassinate Daenerys to get the Jon and Arianne relationship to happen at all. I don’t know if she got caught up in a legitimate scheme to marry him or if she’s part of an assassination plot and attempted coup.”

“So, either Arianne is a willing participant in a legitimate marriage alliance that is no longer an option, or she has nefarious plans to kill Daenerys, marry me, and take the throne?” Jon asked seriously.

Sansa nodded in return. “Arianne’s part is a little cloudy, although I do think she was feeding them information that she wasn’t giving you. Varys, however, is less ambiguous. He wants Daenerys out, and Jon on the throne.”

“Could that be solved by their betrothal?” Robb asked.

“It doesn’t matter.” Daenerys said staunchly. “It doesn’t matter if marrying Jon fixes it. He was still planning on getting rid of me in favor of Jon. It’s still treason. And quite frankly, I think Arianne is much more involved than you’re giving her credit for. I don’t have any proof but call it a woman’s intuition.”

“So what?” Robb asks, suddenly anxious. “You’re going to execute her for treason for trying to marry Jon?”

“If I do execute her for treason it will be because she tried to depose me for another ruler.” Daenerys replied sharply.

Jon turned to his distraught brother. “I know you have feelings for her Robb, but it is entirely possible that Arianne’s in on this entire plot, and if she is, she will be executed for treason.”

Robb was quiet for a long moment before he shrugged. “I do have feelings, but I also know what it is to be betrayed. I live with the consequences of it every day. If you can prevent a plot that might take your life, or the lives of those you love, you should do what you need to. Arianne is sharp, you’ll need to stay on your toes with her. I won’t send her any warning. Is it possible Varys knows that you know of his plans?”

Everyone turned to look at Sansa. “I can’t say for sure whether or not he would know. Varys might think it’s entirely possible that Baelish could’ve told us all of this in the hopes we would let him live.”

Daenerys shook her head. “The trial and execution was recorded by Maester Wolkan. If he knows any details about Baelish’s trial and death then he’ll know that he didn’t reveal anything.”

“It is possible you could have an advantage over Varys then. He won’t suspect that we found Baelish’s records.” Sansa said. The four of them fell silent for a long moment each staring at the table and lost in their own thoughts.

“Thank you.” Jon said. “We owe you both so much. Robb, without your leadership up here, I don’t think any of these alliances would be possible. Sansa, your skills at gathering information and connecting dots is astounding. But, as much as I would love to stay here at Winterfell, I think we’re needed back down south.” He looked to her for confirmation and she nodded her head in agreement.

Dany watched the exchange between the siblings with interest. The dynamic between the three was so interesting. Jon had all the power, but Robb was still a leader by nature. Robb seemed almost relieved to have to defer to the younger man. Sansa despite being proud and capable clearly loved her brothers and was determined to see them both protected. It was obvious the three had a strong bond and it made her long for siblings of her own that would have loved her unconditionally.

Robb nodded. “Bran says you have two, maybe three months left before the army makes it to the Wall. From there, we don’t know what will happen.”

“We need to be ready for the eventuality that they will find their way south.” Jon said. “Does Bran know what their motivation is? Why the White Walkers are suddenly actively moving against man?”

“I haven’t asked him.” Robb responded. “We tend to just let him come to us with information. He says he’s still learning exactly how to focus his energy to find specific things, and obviously he’s still lacking in tact.” Robb said with a wince. Everyone had felt bad about Bran’s revelation of Dany’s personal tragedy and both Rob and Sansa had apologized on behalf of the youngest Stark. Dany had been furious and had stayed far away from the mysterious young man.

“It might help. If we did know.” Jon said.

“I’ll ask him.” Robb said nodding. “Are you going right back to King’s Landing for the siege?”

“No.” Dany said. “That’s what the scroll from Tyrion was about. Euron has moved his fleet from the harbor. He left behind the majority of his ships, but several of them including The Silence sailed out towards the exit of Blackwater Bay. Whether or not his intention is to attack Dragonstone, either way he’ll be too close to our fleet for comfort. They’ll need our support.”

“Well, Your Graces,” Robb started. “I wish you good fortune in the wars to come. Please know that you will always have meat and mead waiting for you on our tables and a hearth to rest by.”

“The next time we see each other, gods be good, you’ll officially be the King and Queen of Westeros.” Sansa said with a smirk. “By then, Jon will want to come home and hide in the crypts.”

Robb and Sansa chuckled, and Jon shot them a playful scowl. Dany smirked at Jon. “We’ll be leading our armies up north, along with our dragons. And once this dreadful problem is taken care of, he’ll be going right back down south with me. The North had him long enough, now it’s my turn.” She nearly laughed at the blush on Jon’s cheek from her claiming statement.

Sansa looked at them both with a soft look. “Take care of one another, we need you.”

After the emotional exchange with the Stark siblings and a quick goodbye to the other characters she had met in the North, including a bear hug from Tormund, Jon and Dany mounted their dragons and started their long journey back down south.

***

After some discussion mid flight, Jon and Dany decided it would be better if they went straight to Dragonstone for the inevitable naval battle than return to the siege camp. The flight back south seemed to drag on as they moved along the coast this time. Towns passed below. Jon pointed out White Harbor to her, the seat of House Manderly. Then they made their way over the Vale on the most direct path to Dragonstone. The mountains seemed endless as they stretched below. The dragons seemed to sense the urgency as they continued on without stopping through the night and most of the next day. Dragonstone came into view in the pitch darkness of the second night.

Drogon and Rhaegal dropped them off on the plains near the castle, then left for some much-needed rest on the island. Jon and Dany made their way into the keep, exhausted and sore. They were met at the gate by the grinning faces of Arya and Davos. Dany almost groaned at them.

“It’s good to see ya both.” Davos said. “Right on time too, we’re expecting Euron in the morning.”

Jon looked at her, eyebrows raised. “This whole, let’s fly back and forth across Westeros idea was shite.”

Dany scoffed. “If I recall it was you who insisted we go to Winterfell.”

“I’m sure it was worth it just to see Baelish’s head leave his body though, right?” Arya said excitedly.

“You should have seen your sister; she was ruthless with him.” Dany said, eyebrows raised.

“Sansa?” Arya asked, nose wrinkling. “Well, maybe we’re more alike than we think.”

“Alright, how ‘bout you both catch us up as we walk to our chambers.” Jon slurred; his Northern accent was much more pronounced when he was tired.

Davos nodded and started walking. “According to our sources, Euron is heading to Pentos. We’re just a stop along the way. No doubt he wanted to finish off our fleet. Everyone saw you both fly off on your dragons and it’d probably be best to keep their presence a secret for now. Maybe we’ll catch him by surprise.”

“Why Pentos?” Dany asked. For a quick second she had a delirious thought that maybe Illyrio Mopatis had decided to back Cersei instead.

“Well, the Golden Company normally comes with elephants, but they couldn’t fit them on the last run. He’s going back for them.” Davos said. That stopped Dany in her tracks. “Elephants?”

Arya nodded. “Big giant animal with a trunk and tusks. They ride them into battle and use them to destroy large groups of soldiers.”

Dany looked at her with a deadpan look. “I know what elephants are, Arya.” She turned to Davos. “You said they’re headed our way though?”

Davos nodded his head. “Theon sailed out to meet them, never got close enough to do battle, just enough to taunt him into a battle closer to Dragonstone. Scouting ships saw the whole thing, and now Euron is following Theon back here. He still has the horn according to our scouts.”

Dany and Jon exchanged a long look. “Jon and I need rest before we can talk about this. Neither one of us is in a position to plan a battle strategy right now.” They had reached Dany’s door in the great keep. “If we’re not up by the end of the first watch, come and get us.”

It wasn’t even dawn when Dany woke to Jon dressing in his full armor. “Going into battle without me, My King?”

He smiled at her. “Of course not, I just wanted you to have as much sleep as possible.” He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her upturned mouth. “Take your time, we still have a couple of hours. I’ll be in the table chamber with Davos.” She nodded as he left the room.

When Dany made her appearance around a half hour later, she saw Davos, Jon, Arya, Varys, and the maesters huddled at the large painted table. They were addressing a young man, dressed in the uniform of the Iron Born. The man was obviously giving a report of the latest sightings of the fleets. “Euron is coming around the east side of Driftmark, he’ll be visible to Dragonstone within the hour.”

“How many ships does he have?” Jon asked.

“Twenty-four.” The man responded. A chill went down Dany’s spine. Euron had attacked her fleet on the Narrow Sea with only six ships and had done a great deal of damage. It was hard to imagine what he could do with more.

“And Theon?” Jon asked. “Eighteen, Your Grace.”

Jon turned to Davos. “I’m not familiar with naval battles, is six ships a significant difference?”

“Not an insurmountable one. Especially when we have dragons. The question will be whether or not we can use them.” Davos looked at her.

“He was waiting for us last time. He knew what he wanted and knew that dragons would be there. The thing we have going for us this time is surprise. What if we flew on the west side of Driftmark, before he could see us and come up behind him, over the island? Could that work?” Dany asked the experienced men.

“I’d feel better about that then meeting them head on.” Jon said. “We should have more control this time as well since two of the dragons are bonded instead of just Drogon.”

“Maybe it’d be best to leave the white one here, so he doesn’t get affected?” Davos asked. 

Dany looked at both of them. “Coming up behind Euron is the better play with the dragons, they can be silent when they want to be and I think we’ll need as much surprise as we can get.”

Davos looked like he wanted to continue arguing about strategy, but Jon nodded at her. “I’m still learning the best way to use the dragons, if coming up behind them is best then that’s what we’ll do.”

“Viserion won’t like being left behind, and he may not stay. It’s hard to tell a dragon what to do.” Daenerys warned both Davos and Jon.

“I know.” Davos said, looking significantly between her and Jon.

“We need to be prepared for the possibility that Euron and his fleet defeat Theon and make it to Dragonstone.” Dany said. She looked at the maesters. “Is it possible to start evacuating the village up to the keep?”

“You want to move all of the peasants into the castle?” Maester Cressen asked.

“Euron has a certain reputation, Maester Cressen. If he does get ashore, it will not be pleasant for any of them. I would prefer if the smallfolk were under the protection of our roof and walls. With our armies gone, there should be plenty of space.” She reasoned.

Maester Pylos took the initiative away from his senior companion. “I think it’s a good idea. I’d rather do it now than in the heat of battle.” Pylos nodded at her. “I’ll make my way down and move people to the castle.”

“Dany and I need to go now if we want to be undetected.” Jon said. She nodded and they both made their way outside the castle. Drogon and Rhaegal met them on the plains and a sullen Viserion moved further up the mountain. “How do they know?” Jon asked.

Dany just shrugged. “They’re intelligent, and bonded with us, no doubt they can read the plans in our minds.”

Jon and Dany once again mounted their dragons and took off over the water. The dragons flew low on top of the surface and Dany could smell the salt and feel the spray of the water. Up ahead in the faint light of dawn, she could see Theon’s line of ships standing silently in between the two islands, much closer to Driftmark than Dragonstone. That was on purpose, just in case they had to retreat, they wanted Euron far away from their island. The side of Driftmark that faced Dragonstone was home to two major things, Castle Driftmark the seat of House Velaryon and several miles away, the volcano of Driftmark island. The mountain was much smaller than Dragonstone’s but still reached a peak high above the rest of the island.

Jon and Daenerys used the cover of the mountain to make their way around the western side of the island. Dany was alarmed to see smoke rising from the western most tip of the island. The town was on fire. As they flew closer Dany looked on in horror as she realized the flames glowed green, not red. She looked at Jon to see a similar look of terror on his face. “Wildfire!” He shouted over the wind. Euron and his fleet were carrying wildfire. And based on the scene below, they were hurling it into any target they wished. Dany could hear the screams of the people in the village down below. “There’s nothing we can do for them now. We need to go!” Jon screamed at her. She knew he was right, but it seemed so heartless and cruel to leave the people to their own devices. All of the ships in their small harbor had been burned in the process. Many of the people were leaving the village and making their way up to the castle. She imagined the similar scene that was happening on Dragonstone at the same time.

Her sorrow at the tragedy down below fueled her anger at the cruel pirate. Drogon and Rhaegal growled beneath them, responding to their mother's anger. The dragons flew low over the land, heading back towards the side of the island facing Dragonstone. They landed, and Jon and Daenerys dismounted, moving to the edge of the cliff where they could observe the happenings on the water below. Timing was everything. They didn’t want to give Euron any indication that they were present with their dragons. The cover of darkness had helped keep them invisible up until this point. Dany could see the advantage of Theon’s chosen spot. His ships stood with the rising sun at their back, while Euron was sailing directly into the morning sun. As the sun rose, the water would be highly reflective, hiding the fleet in the shiny surface.

Daenerys turned to look down at Euron’s approaching fleet. From her vantage point, she could see all twenty-four ships spread out behind the leader, the dreaded Silence. She watched from above as it glided through the water, its’ black sails full of wind. Dany could see the horrid dragon horn from her line of sight. It glowed unnaturally in the early light. No sound came from the ship, unlike the other ones where orders were being shouted out at the crew members. All of the ships seemed to be sailing with very few men, probably in preparation for the future cargo of elephants. Something seemed off though about Euron’s ship, near the front.

“Dany, can you see what’s on the prow? It looks like something is fastened there.” Jon said uneasily. “It’s probably something designed to throw off Theon.”

Daenerys felt sick as she looked down at the movement happening on the front of the ship. Secured in front of the figurehead was a living, moving Yara Greyjoy. Euron had strapped her to the front of the ship in a place where he normally rammed other vessels. He was pushing her out to be sacrificed in the first hits of battle. She heard Jon groan next to her as he realized too what was happening. Dany quickly turned around and took deep breaths. The man was pure evil. They were too far away to see Yara’s features, but Daenerys had no doubt that the woman had been abused severely in the last few months. In her running around and flying around the kingdoms, she had nearly all but forgotten the Iron Islands’ ambitious lady. She couldn’t believe she had left the woman to be tortured and abused by this man. She felt Jon’s hand on her back, rubbing in circles. “I forgot about her, Jon. She fought for me, brought me ships, and I forgot about her.”

“Yara Greyjoy knew the threat her uncle posed.” Jon said. “She’s a warrior, she knew what would happen if Euron captured her. It doesn’t absolve what’s happened to her or what’s about to happen to her, but it was her choice to fight for you and to fight him.”

She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “Do you think I’m weak because I can’t stand that this is her fate?”

He shook his head. “Dany I’d be more concerned if you didn’t have a problem with it. You have great compassion for people, and it fuels your righteous anger. We just can’t be overwhelmed by it.”

She nodded and took a deep breath. They watched in silence as the ships lined up opposite of Theon. She could hear the taunting calls being thrown out toward her forces. She wanted to warn Theon about the wildfire, but there was no way of telling him without giving up their presence and that wasn’t an option. Their spot afforded them a view of Euron’s ships from the back. She could see the men in many of the ships loading their trebuchets in preparation for battle. Luckily, there was no wildfire being loaded yet. “Why don’t they use the wildfire?” She asked Jon.

He shrugged. “Could be they don’t have that much and they’re saving it for an attack on land. Also, if they hit Theon’s ships, they won’t be able to board them. My guess is Euron wants to be face to face with him. Then there’s the problem of accuracy. On land if the wildfire hits where you don’t intend, that’s okay because something still burns. Here, if they miss, the solution could go into the water. It will still be ignited if lit and could get to one of their ships. There’s a few reasons.”

Sure enough, as Euron’s forces started firing large fireballs at the opposing ships, several landed in the water. Their sight was obviously thrown off by the reflective surface of the water. After nearly an hour of lobbing flying fire at one another and with two of Theon’s ships burning and four of Euron’s battling the flames, Euron had finally had enough. With a yell, he forced his ship toward Theon’s. Euron’s ships fanned out in formation with the Silence at the peak and the rest of his ships arching out away from him. Dany and Jon climbed on their dragons. With Euron fully focused on the ship in front of him, Rhaegal and Drogon would take their shots at his ships. They dived off the cliff as Euron’s ship collided with Theon’s. She tried not to cringe at what that meant for Yara, she swore should hear an agonized scream from Theon over the wind in her ears.

Drogon moved to the left flank of ships while Rhaegal systematically flew over the ones on the right. She screamed over the sounds of battle, “Dracarys!” A long stream of fire left Drogon and leapt from one ship to the next as he scourged every ship on the way toward the middle. She could see Rhaegal and Jon perform the same maneuver on the other side of the fleet. The two crossed in the air over Euron’s ship. He wasn’t paying attention to them as he and Theon battled hand to hand. His men rendered mute without their tongues were trying to get his attention on the dragons above. Dany and Drogon made their way down the row of ships that Jon had just set fire to. Drogon moved slightly to avoid a fireball thrown their way. She continued to rain down fire from above. She watched as men jumped from their ships into the water and she suddenly realized why. They were setting fire to ships carrying wildfire. It was only a matter of time before it ignited. She watched as Theon’s remaining ships were moving in to attack the burning vessels and she flew over them warning them off. Too engrossed in battle, they moved closer to the burning ships instead. She watched as they rammed the ships from the side, trying to sink the vessels.

She moved Drogon to meet with Jon and Rhaegal who were holding steady in the air between The Silence and the cliffs of Driftmark behind them. “Jon!” He looked over at her. “The wildfire! It’s going to ignite!” Jon’s eyes widened as he realized what she did. She felt so stupid, they had just been talking about the substance. They both turned to look at the ships below them and that’s when they heard it. “Blow the fucking horn!” Euron was screaming at one of his shipmates. They looked back down at the ship as a man stepped up to the horn that was pointed in their direction. Rhaegal panicked immediately and nearly bucked Jon off in an effort to get away from the cursed object. Drogon followed just as quickly flying fast back toward Driftmark, looking for cover.

Daenerys felt it before she heard it. The hairs stood up on the back of her neck and arms and her legs instinctively tightened on Drogon. The sound was just as horrendous as the first time, but luckily not as loud as she and Drogon were diving out of the path of the horn. She could almost see the waves of sound rending the air in the direction of Driftmark. The sound hit the side of the slumbering mountain. The force of the dragon horn pushed on the volcano and Danerys heard a loud crack before the peak exploded.

The top of the mountain shot up to the sky a huge tower of dark material churned further and further upward. Daenerys watched in horror as the ground around the mountain shook and quaked. She and Drogon tumbled in the air as the shockwave from the mountain’s explosion moved outward. She could see Rhaegal and Jon struggling in the air as well. The water below them churned quickly. Huge parts of the mountain dropped into the water forcing large waves to move toward the ships below. She watched as the men in the water got swallowed by the thick waves. The mountain started to eject its own fireballs down on the people below. Jon flew close to her. “Dany, we have to go!”

She shook her head. “What about our ships?” She screamed back. Ash was starting to fall down on them as they watched the mountain continue to deteriorate. “There’s no time. We’ll barely be able to save ourselves.”

She looked down at the ships still locked together. Most of the men were looking up at the sky with a mixture of horror and wonder. As she hesitated, another fire ball nearly hit Drogon. He roared his displeasure and started flying toward Dragonstone. She took one more look at The Silence below. Unlike his men, Euron Greyjoy was staring not at the mountain, but straight up at her. Theon lay obviously dead at his feet, his blood dripping from Euron’s sword. Bodies were strewn all around him. The man who had blown the dragon horn laid at its mouthpiece, stiff and still. Euron’s hatred was palpable as he looked up at her dragons. Their eyes met as a fireball from the volcano struck one of his ships, finally igniting the wildfire. She broke eye contact and followed Jon frantically back to their island as the ships on the water behind her systematically blew apart one by one in green flames.

There was a large crash behind her. She turned to look over her shoulder as she watched the last of House Greyjoy be consumed by the sea, their ships reduced to plywood by the waves. The sun had disappeared behind a heavy cover of ash which fell around them like snow. The dragons were flying fast, desperate to get to cover. The volcano behind her continued to groan and hiss, ejecting fireballs into the sea which was black beneath them.

The world around her was growing steadily darker as ash filled the sky. It was falling in clumps down upon her now. Rhaegal and Drogon reached the beaches of Dragonstone. The sea had pulled away as if running dry. The bottom exposed as clams and reef dotted the landscape. The view was strange and added to the hellish appearance of the world around her. She turned back to look at the erupting volcano and what had been Euron’s and Theon’s ships. There was nothing but smoldering ruin on top of the water, the remaining wood glowing green in the distance. The waves were larger than ever as they swallowed the remnants of the ships and the men in the water. The mountain itself continued to crumble into the sea while large chunks of rock were forced upward into the sky. Large fireballs continued to rain down into the sea.

Dany watched in horror as the sea returned to Dragonstone with a fury, surpassing its normal line and covering the dry seabed. The wave crashed into the town. It pushed the boats in the harbor into the buildings lining the beach. In the distance she could see some villagers scrambling up to the castle. It must have been the last of them as they had started the evacuation hours earlier. The wave crashed into the northern caves where the dragonglass had been mined and the Valyrian steel was being forged. She hoped Gendry had taken refuge in the castle during the battle. Both Drogon and Rhaegal were in a panic with the ash still dropping steadily and the loud noises rumbling behind them.

She took a deep breath as Drogon headed toward the cave entrance he had flown out of with her weeks ago. She still remembered the long journey through the tight, pitch black tunnels. She didn’t have time to warn Jon as Drogon dived into the cave, Rhaegal following right behind. Dany curled as close as she could to Drogon’s back as they descended into the bowels of Dragonstone. She was suddenly irrationally fearful of Dragonstone’s volcano. What if it erupted because of Driftmark? She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself as the cave grew warmer. After what felt like hours, she was sure several patches of her skin had been ripped off as they made it into the larger cave at the back of the network of caverns. Obviously, the water hadn’t made it this far, the ground was still dry. She could hear Viserion gently greeting his brothers in the darkness. “Dany?” Jon asked.

“I’m here.” She said quickly. “I can't see anything, where are you?”

“To your right I think.” His voice came from the right side of her body. “I’m going to try and dismount and find my way out.”

“Wait.” She called. “I’ve been down here before, many times. I know where to go. I just need to get my bearings.” She gently climbed down from Drogon with little help from the dragon. She heard Jon drop down off of Rhaegal.

“How are you going to get your bearings in a pitch-black cave?” He questioned.

“Dracarys.” Dany said gently. Drogon spurted a small amount of flame in front of her and she could see the outline of the hot springs in the corner. She reached for Jon’s hand in the darkness and pulled him behind her. As they moved closer, the sound of trickling water and the smell of sulfur invaded her senses.

“Are these hot springs?” Jon asked.

“Yes. Have you been to one before?” She asked.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Yes. Beyond the Wall, when I was with the Free Folk. Also, there is a series of them below Winterfell, but I’ve never seen them.”

“Why do I feel like I’m not going to like your story about your first time visiting a hot spring Jon Targaryen?” She asked good naturedly.

“Because it’s probably the same feeling I get when you talk about your first marriage.” Jon answered.

Daenerys left the comment unanswered. A part of her liked that Jon didn’t like to hear about her past relationships, that he might be just as possessive of her as she was of him. She felt her way along the wall next to the spring until she found the door to the passageway that would take them to the cellar. They walked in darkness and in silence as they made their way to the castle. They emerged into the cellar and came face to face with a young serving girl. She screamed and jumped as they came into the space. After a long moment of looking at them, she curtsied. “Your Graces.”

Jon just nodded at her and asked where everyone was. The woman explained that most of the people from town had been placed in the dining hall and that their advisors were somewhere where they had been watching the battle. The two monarchs made their way through the castle towards the chamber of the painted table. Along the way they saw the keep was packed with the men, women, and children from the village. The small contingent of Unsullied still at Dragonstone were helping to settle them into the main areas. She instructed them along the way to make sure that the elderly and children got beds for later in the day. It was strange to think it was morning with it being so dark outside.

They finally arrived at the Painted Table where Davos, Arya, Gendry, Maesters Pylos and Cressen, and Varys were situated. They all looked up as they entered the room. “You’re quite the sight.” Davos said. For the first time Dany looked down at herself. She was so covered in ash, her skin and hair were nearly black. Jon moved forward to brief Davos and Arya on the battle and she made her way to the window facing Driftmark. She stood next to the maesters. Maester Cressen was dictating the account to Pylos, who was acting as a scribe. Her mind wandered as the old maester poetically spoke about the ordeal. “The mountain rose up and blew in the wind like leaves. The sun in the east was blocked by ash and night fell once again. The sea ran dry until it returned with wrath. The ships were devoured by the hungry flames of wildfire.”

She nearly rolled her eyes at his dramatic account of events. Gods, she was exhausted, she just wanted to bathe and then curl up in bed and sleep.


	19. Jon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Daenerys deal with the aftermath of the battle with Euron. Dragonstone recovers from the volcanic eruption. Plans move forward after a few days of rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Sunday! There's supposed to be some big game on or something apparently.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter, it's a little long, but I like where it went.
> 
> As always, thanks AbstractlySydney for helping as the beta.

Jon looked past Daenerys out at the hellish scene outside of the castle. The sky was black, as if night had fallen despite it being midmorning. Fire was still burning from the top of the mountain on Driftmark. The sea was still broiling as parts of the island continued to dissolve into the water below. There was no evidence of the naval battle that had taken place mere hours before. House Greyjoy had been completely destroyed. What was left of the Iron Born were docked in the harbor at King’s Landing, still thought to be under the command of Euron who was now at the bottom of the sea. Dany’s fleet was gone.

“Was it the dragon horn?” Jon turned at the question. Sam was looking at him with a face full of concern. Jon was sure he looked affright. Daenerys was covered head to toe in dark gray ash which had turned black on her damp skin and hair. He was sure he wasn’t much better. “Jon?” Sam continued.

Jon nodded his head at Sam. “He was aiming for the dragons, but Rhaegal panicked and moved out of the way quickly and Drogon had moved back toward Driftmark. The sound hit the side of the mountain instead of us. It was as if a giant shockwave reawakened the mountain. Is that even possible?”

Sam took a deep breath. “I think so. I’ve been reading a lot about Valyrian legends in the books I brought back with me. Dragon horns were readily available in Valyria. They used them to train their dragons, and several were still in existence when the doom occurred. Euron must have found one on his travels around the world.”

“Are there more?” Dany asked, joining the conversation. “Is there a possibility that someone else has this power?”

“I don’t know, Your Grace.” Sam answered. “Honestly, I don’t really know how Euron even got one.”

“Could it have survived out there, on Euron’s ship?” Davos asked.

“If it did survive the wildfire and the waves, it’s at the bottom of the sea now.” Jon said bitterly.

“I want to be sure.” Daenerys said. “As soon as possible I want someone searching for it.”

“It will be a while before anyone can go anywhere, Your Grace.” Sam answered. “The ash is too thick. It will cause breathing problems for people. Everyone should stay inside. We should also keep an eye on the roofs of the castle. If the ash piles up too much, they could collapse under the weight.”

Jon nodded at him. “Assign someone to do the job. Nearly every person on Dragonstone appears to be in the castle, I’m sure they’d like to make sure it’s not going to collapse around them.”

Dany suddenly swung toward him with wide eyes. “Jon.” She breathed, her hand coming up to her neck in a defensive gesture. “The people on Driftmark. What about them?”

Jon looked at her. He didn’t want to be the one to say it. She looked so distraught and he didn’t want to bring her any more pain. It was Arya that saved him from having to deliver the bad news. “Your Grace,” she began softly. “We have no ships left. The ones that were in the harbor are smashed into the town after the larger waves. Your dragons will not want to fly in this, I don’t know if they even could. There’s no way to even call for help. The ravens can’t fly in it either.”

“There’s no helping them.” Daenerys said painfully. “We will see the end of more than one house today.”

Jon felt her sorrow. The worst part of war was the destruction of the innocent. Euron Greyjoy’s quest for power had brought about a disaster that would mean the death of nearly every person on Driftmark. He refused to let Dany take the blame for that. “Euron and his horn did this. Not you.”

She looked up at him, tears swimming in her eyes and he nearly cursed. He turned to look at Sam and Davos. “Is there somewhere we can get a bath?” Davos shook his head slowly. “I don’t know, with this many people in the castle, water will be scarce.”

“We can go back down to the springs.” Dany said. “I think I’d appreciate that more, to be alone down there with the dragons. I don’t want to deal with people right now. Jon, let’s go down there.”

Jon reluctantly nodded at his future wife. He asked Arya to gather some clothes for them and she and Gendry scurried off. Dany sat down in one of the seats at the table while he continued speaking with Davos. He relayed the events that happened at Highgarden, the camp outside King’s Landing, and in the North. Both Davos and Varys listened intently to his summary. He left out a lot of details that he would add later when he and Davos were alone.

“Well lad, I think you and Daenerys have certainly earned yourselves some rest.” Davos said finally. “The camp will keep without you, especially now that the elephants won’t be coming. I suggest you and your queen take the time you have to regroup.”

Jon looked down at Dany who was staring blankly at the Painted Table. She looked as exhausted as he felt. He nodded at Davos. “Will you make sure everything runs smoothly in the castle? We may need to house people for a few days. Until the sky clears at least.” The older man nodded back at him. “Of course, Your Grace. You can count on me.”

Arya and Gendry reappeared with bundles of cloth. He nodded at them. “Thank you.” They smiled weakly at him, both looking at Dany concerned. Jon turned to distract them from the nearly comatose woman. “Gendry, the waves moved in rather quickly to the caves. I don’t know how far back the water got, or what happened to the forge.”

Gendry nodded. “I’ll take a look when things clear up. I’ve made a lot of progress with the steel. Several men have been helping me and we have quite a few swords done, and I’ve been working on a first draft of armor. I was also wondering if I could get arrows to work. We’ve tried a few different designs with arrowheads and Arya’s been testing them, but we’ve still yet to find a perfect one.”

Jon nodded. He was curious about the relationship between the blacksmith and his sister, the two stood very close together, but he was too tired to interrogate either of them at the moment. He turned from them to look at Dany. He leaned down and put his mouth to her ear. “Come on love, we need to get cleaned up and get some rest. Neither of us is of any use here right now.” She looked up at him with a watery smile and turned to thank everyone in the room before following him down the stairs.

They made their way quickly through the castle, Arya and Gendry leading the way and clearing people out of the passageways to prevent them from being detained. As they passed through the kitchens on the way to the cellar, Jon and Dany stocked a platter full of food and a carafe of wine. Jon took the bundle of clothes from Gendry and he lit the torch next to the door in the cellar. One of the Unsullied stood behind them, prepared to guard the door while they were at the springs. Jon nodded to all of them and whispered his thanks. He and Dany once again entered the dark tunnel, this time much more comfortable with the light and warmth of the torch in his hand.

They arrived back at the hot springs just a few hours after they had worked their way through the dark passages. He lit all of the torches along the wall and then took another look at the chamber. Jon was amazed at the system of hot springs in front of him. The largest was the one on the floor of the cave, steam rose from the water and lazy bubbles popped on the surface. Three more pools worked their way up the wall of the cave. The one directly feeding into the lowest pool was the only other one large enough for two people. The top two pools were smaller the higher they went up. He also saw that only the two largest were actively steaming. It seemed as if cool surface water was flowing into the pools and then being heated in the lower ones. The smell of sulfur gently permeated the air and sweat broke out on his forehead in the damp heat of the cave. He sensed Rhaegal off in the corner, small sounds from the three dragons echoing off the walls. He turned back to Daenerys and saw that she was already undressing.

Her hands were visibly shaking as she unwrapped the coat overdress from around herself. He stepped forward to help her free her arms and she looked up at him gratefully. She stood now in her thinner gown, meant to be worn inside the castle during the winter. He pushed her gently to sit on the stone bench that was part of the wall and knelt at her feet. She sighed as he reached forward and started to remove her boots and stockings. He frowned as he touched her bare skin. She was freezing. He looked back up to her face and saw that her pupils were blown wide. She was going into shock.

She reached out to cup his cheek. “Jon.” She whispered. He shook his head. “Let’s get you warmed up first, before we talk.” He grabbed her around the waist and helped her stand. He removed her dress, and her small clothes until she was naked before him. The sight of Daenerys Targaryen in nothing but her skin never ceased to steal his breath. She was perfect. Even with her upper body and hands covered in ash. The dark black color that had settled in her hair lightened to a dark gray to a lighter gray as the ash had fallen under her clothes. Finally, the ash gave way to bare skin right at the curve of her breasts.

“I need to undo my hair, so I can wash it.” She said, still shaking. He turned her around, so he was facing her back instead. Her hair was in a much simpler style than when Missandei was around. The simple long braid falling down her back. He pulled the leather cord out of her hair at the bottom of the plait and slowly and gently moved his fingers through the strands, unlinking them as he went. Her hair fell limply down her back, crusty in places where the ash had settled and caked into it. He could feel the soot under his fingernails from pulling his fingers through it. Jon grabbed her hand and walked her towards the large pool at the floor of the cave. “Can you get in by yourself?” He asked.

She nodded. “There’s a shelf just below the surface to sit on, and in the edges, the water only comes up to my shoulders anyway.” He reluctantly released her to walk her way into the water. He would have had her wait for him, but it was too cold in the cave for her to stand there waiting for him. Jon watched as she sighed and sunk into the hot water. The liquid quickly turned darker as the ash left her skin and migrated to the pool.

He turned back to the bench and gathered her ruined clothes, piling them up together. He sighed as he realized his clothes were also most likely ruined. Sure enough, after he removed his sword belt, gorget, and gauntlets he noticed large holes burned into his brown leather. It must have been from the hot embers that had fallen in the air. Jon groaned as he added his clothes to the trashed pile. He looked to the clothing bundles they had been given by Arya and hoped there was enough in the large packages to cover them. He stripped out of the rest of his clothes and removed the leather cord from his own hair as grabbed the long sheets of linen left out for drying themselves. He brought them with him to the edge of the pool and then went to enter, joining his woman.

Daenerys was watching him with hungry eyes, and he couldn’t help but chuckle. Not even shock could cool her fire. He found that he wasn’t very controlled either as he met her eyes. He stepped into the water and his body was overtaken by a whole new kind of heat. He nearly yelped and jumped back from the pool. He heard a giggle come from Dany. She was sitting against the side of the pool on the opposite end and was watching as he raised his now very pink foot out of the water. “How can you stand it?” He asked her. She shrugged, light returning to her eyes as she said, “I’m blood of the dragon.”

“Well, apparently not all dragons are fireproof.” He grumbled back at her. She laughed outright this time. He took a deep breath and forced his way into the pool. Sweat broke out over his whole body as he eased into the scalding water. Surprisingly, once he got to a point where the water covered him up to his waist, his body seemed to fully adjust to the temperature. He quickly dipped under the surface and scrubbed gently at his skin, removing the top layer of ash. When he resurfaced he saw Dany watching him with a soft look. Jon made his way over to Daenerys and sat next to her on the shelf. She sweetly leaned her head on his shoulder as he settled beside her. “I think I’ve decided that I don’t want to do this anymore.” Dany said. “Can we just stay here for the rest of our lives instead.”

Jon couldn’t help but think back to the last time a lover had asked him to hide away in a cave. A bittersweet smile came to his face at the thought of Ygritte. Dany turned her head and looked up at him. “What put that look on your face?” She questioned. He took a deep breath and looked at her, wondering if he should share the experience. “I told you I have a history with hot springs in caves. My first lover, she was a wildling named Ygritte. She and I spent our first time together in a cave like this. When she died in my arms months later, she said that we should’ve stayed in the cave together.”

“Does this remind you too much of her?” Dany asked softly. He turned to look down at her. “What I felt for Ygritte doesn’t really come close to what I feel for you. Our relationship, while eye opening, and comforting was not one that I gave up everything for. I didn’t give up my duty for her. I didn’t change who I was for her, even though it seemed that way for a time. I don’t want to minimize my relationship with her, because I did love her, but it’s just not the same as what we have. I know my place is by your side, and I’ve known it for a while now. You force me to change and encourage me to do things I wouldn’t normally. You make me a stronger man, a better man.”

Dany smiled up at him. “I feel the same way. I don’t know if I ever truly loved Drogo, we weren’t really in a position where we could fall in love. We had affection for one another toward the end, but I never felt the comfort I do with you. Where he muted me, and kept me quiet, you let me shine. Part of that was the culture we were in at the time, but also he never would have accepted sharing power with me.” Dany took a deep breath and continued. “I know that I have the ability to get lost in my fire, but you temper me and see things in a way that I can’t. Just like I’ve changed you, you’ve changed me, and made me better. We complement each other, ice and fire.”

Jon leaned down and gave a soft peck to her smiling lips. “I love you.” He whispered. “I love you too.” She replied. “But we both really need to get clean now.” For the next little bit, they spent time washing their bodies and hair in the large pool. Daenerys seemed to thoroughly enjoy pushing soap through his curls and meticulously cleaning his black hair. She continuously complained that she couldn’t tell if she had gotten it all or not, but finally the suds and water ran clean. The longest time was spent with Daenerys leaning her back against his chest in the water as Jon worked his fingers and soap through her hair. Slowly, the black and dark gray left and her natural silver showed through. They spent a long time stroking each other’s bodies in the water and Jon could feel the heat rise between them. By the time the ash was gone from them, the pool around them was dark, despite the fact that they had just washed, the water was leaving behind particles of ash still on their skin.

“Let’s move up to the next pool to rinse off, while the ash clears out of here.” Dany suggested. Jon stared at her gorgeous form as she climbed from the current pool up to the next one in the series. Her full body was on display during the transition. Water dripped from her nipples and ran down her legs. Her skin clear and shining and her hair falling down her body. By the time she was settled, he was hard and aching from the show. She met his eyes over the top of her current pool and down into his. Her mischievous twinkle told him she knew exactly what state he was in. He tried desperately to get his body to calm down, but his cock stood at attention proudly as he climbed into the smaller pool. Water flowed from this pool down to the large one below and while it wasn’t as scalding as the other pool, it was still warm. Jon sat opposite of Daenerys in the smaller space. He knew she was still recovering from the day’s events and the last thing he wanted was to pressure her into anything physical despite his current ache. She was probably still in shock.

She met his eyes squarely. “Jon.” He watched her and braced himself for what he knew was coming. “I need you to fuck me.” Maybe it was wrong after the day they’d had, but he felt an intense need to reconnect with her. Before he could second guess his decision, he moved across the pool to Dany and wrapped an arm around her back arching her up for his kiss. Their tongues met in heated passion. Dany shoved her hands in his hair and pulled him even closer. He slid the hand not currently around her down the front of her body until he found her bundle of nerves and her tight entrance. He worked both, his thumb rubbing small circles and his fingers dragging in and out of her sheath. Over the last few weeks, he had learned exactly what made her scream and he pressed into her just right to drag a gasp from her lips. She moved a hand from his hair and grabbed his cock under the water moving her hand up and down his shaft, lightly scraping her nails as she went.

The heat and pressure between them were almost unbearable. The pool didn’t afford them much room to position so he grabbed her hips and turned her away from him, laying her over the lip of the basin. She shivered against him and he moved his hands up and down her front, stopping at her breasts. He cupped them in his hands and twisted her nipples between his fingers. He whispered in her ear as her breathing became erratic. Finally, she reached behind her and found his cock again. “Please, Jon. Please.” She begged in gasps. He let go of one of her breasts to guide himself to her entrance.

Jon pushed into her with one long shove. Dany screamed in relief and dug her nails into his arm. He adjusted their angle by bending her over further and pulled back only to push in again. Dany leaned forward and propped herself up on her arms and he released her breast to hold both of her hips with his hands. The sounds of their coupling started to bounce off the cave walls. The slapping flesh as he pounded into her relentlessly, their mixed moans and groans, and water crashing on the sides of the basin all came together as he fucked her.

She pushed back eagerly into him, arching her back to meet his thrusts. He was getting close and he refused to find release before she did. He moved his hand around her body to rub at her again and she screamed with her release, tightening impossibly around him. Her nails dug into his wrist and her head arched back to his shoulder. He continued to thrust into her during her orgasm, chasing his own release. It only took a few more thrusts before he was shooting his seed deep into her body.

He nearly collapsed on top of her, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her shoulder and neck. He let out a deep breath and she winced slightly as he pulled back from her body. Keeping his arms around her waist, he leaned back in the water, so she was resting on top of him. “Thank you.” Dany said quietly, still breathless from their intense session. Jon chuckled. “I think I should be thanking you.” They relaxed side by side in the smaller pool for some time. Neither one of them talked, they just enjoyed the feeling of closeness in the warm water. Jon was glad to feel that all of her earlier stiffness was gone, and she was soft and pliant in his arms.

Finally, Jon and Dany rose out of the water as if they had decided without speaking that their time in the spring was done. They dried off with the long pieces of linen and moved to dress. Jon was pleasantly surprised to find that not only was there a full set of clothes for him, but they were in black and brand new. He turned to look at Dany with a raised eyebrow. She just shrugged. “You needed new clothes, and I hated the brown. You’re a Targaryen, Jon. Black is your color.” He reached over and kissed her forehead. “Thank you. I rather like being claimed by you.” She blushed in return and ducked her head.

They ate quickly and then the couple made their way back through the castle, checking in with the smallfolk along the way. Most of them either stared at them in awe or were extremely appreciative of the place of refuge. Jon smiled as he watched Dany greet the people of Dragonstone as if she were their mother welcoming them home, instead of their queen. After the long journey through the keep and checking in with Davos, they moved to Dany’s chambers where they collapsed in a heap on the bed.

***

The skies stayed dark for a few more days. It was impossible to tell the passage of time without the regular movement of the sun. If it wasn’t for the candle rings, Jon would have no idea how long they had spent together in bed. Jon had taken Davos’s suggestion to rest very seriously in the sense that he hadn’t left their bed, nor had he allowed Dany to either.

For the last few days, they had spent nearly all of their time making love. It didn’t matter what position they found themselves in, their hunger for one another and their need to reaffirm that they were alive and well fueled them onward. Jon particularly enjoyed when Dany rode him to her completion, the look of adoration on her face made his heart swell every time. He also feasted frequently in between her thighs. He was surprised he still had hair left based on how she tugged at him.

If the servants knew how much they were fucking, and they had to know, none of them said anything. After the first day when a maid had waited outside their room for nearly a half hour with their food, he insisted it just be left for them. Now, he got up around mealtimes to bring the food into their shared solar. Every muscle in his body was relaxed and stretched and despite the marathon fucking, he felt more rested than he had in years. He almost dreaded when this time would be up and they’d have to go back to work, but he was so grateful for the brief break in their struggles.

Jon lay on his back, Dany spread over his chest, just a sheet covering them on their third consecutive day. He was gently stroking his hand up and down her arm while she traced the scars on his chest. All of the sudden Jon was stirred from his relaxation by a shaft of light hitting him in the eyes. He turned to look out the window and sat up as he realized the sky was clearing. He moved to the window, Dany following closely behind. “Look at that.” He said. “I know that it’s setting because it’s in the west, but it almost looks like a sunrise after so many days without it.” He turned and smiled at Dany who was looking out at the view with crinkles in her forehead. “Are you okay?” He asked.

She nodded her head and looked up at him with a small smile. “Yes. Just something about what you said caught my attention.” She moved away from him. “I guess this means that we should probably make an appearance.” He groaned at her and she chuckled. “Come on, lazy bones. We’ve rested long enough. There’s work to do.” He nodded at her and they moved to dress.

It didn’t take them long to run into people in the castle. All of the smallfolk were still in residence and apparently every part of the keep was used to house them. Jon was amazed to see the dining and great halls lined with bedrolls and hear the laughter of children as they ran through the passageways. They moved toward the end of the dining hall where Davos and Arya were seated and Jon smiled as he watched an Unsullied guard help an elderly woman to a seat at one of the tables. “This has turned into quite the shelter.” Jon said.

Dany just smiled up at him. “This is how it should be. A liege lady taking care of her subjects in a time of distress. It shouldn’t matter who those subjects are, they should all have the opportunity to survive. It appears that Arya and Gendry are making progress.” Dany said as they approached their destination.

Jon looked up to see his sister seated closely to the blacksmith. So close in fact that Jon was sure their thighs were touching under the table. He eyed the younger man with a dark look. Gendry met his eyes and swallowed hard, then tried to move away from Arya. She wasn’t having it and followed him along the bench. Jon nearly laughed. There was no telling Arya what to do. She was a formidable woman and if she had made her choice, he would stand by it. There was no point trying to get in between them. “Did you know?” Jon asked.

Dany giggled at him. “I suspected. Do you approve?”

Jon turned back to her and raised an eyebrow. “Would it matter if I didn’t?” Dany smiled wide at him and shook her head. He sighed, he knew better than trying to tell Arya or Dany what to do. He had somehow ended up surrounded by impossibly strong-willed women.

Dany and Jon took their seats across from his sister and next to Davos. Jon turned toward the older man. “Everything alright down here?”

Davos smirked back at him. “Been a long few days with everyone packed in here, but looks the sky’s clearing and people are eager to get home.” Jon nodded while pouring himself some ale, and some wine for Dany. The servants had seen them and disappeared into the kitchen, no doubt scoring them a meal. “How were your few days of rest, Your Grace?” Davos asked him with a raised eyebrow.

Jon met the man’s gaze squarely. “Refreshing.” He replied.

“According to the servants there wasn’t much resting going on, Your Grace.” Davos’s eyes twinkled as he teased Jon about the marathon lovemaking sessions that obviously had caught some attention. Jon just shrugged unapologetically. He and Dany held a lot of responsibility as King and Queen and they both needed the respite after the battle. “Good for you, lad.” Davos said approvingly. “We need to talk about logistics. You’ll be heading back to King’s Landing I assume, now that it’s safe for the dragons to fly?”

Jon nodded his agreement. “I think Arya, Gendry, and I should head to Winterfell.” Davos continued. “Sam wants to stay here, and I think he’s done what he can for us. If he finds any more information, he’ll send it our way. Gendry needs to be back in the North to help with forging dragonglass weapons.”

“What about the steel?” Jon asked. Davos shook his head sadly. “The waves from the sea cleaned out the forge. He says he can get it working again, but only once it’s totally dry. It won’t be in time for the coming war. We’ll have to work with what we’ve got made right now.”

Jon let out a long breath. “I know it’s not what you wanted, but we got a few blades, some daggers, couldn’t figure out the arrowheads though. I did my best.” Gendry said entering the conversation.

Daenerys smiled at Gendry. “You did more than anyone else has been able to do in centuries. It won’t be forgotten.” Gendry nodded to her, whispering his thanks.

“I like your black gambeson Jon.” Arya said. Jon looked at her cautiously, she had a devious note in her voice. “It looks like it’s lightly printed with…what is that?...dragon scales?”

Jon narrowed his eyes at his baby sister. “It is. I rather like it.” Arya nodded her head and then turned to Gendry. “I’m glad you chose the images you did for his armor. I’d hate for him to forget that he’s a wolf too.” Jon snapped his head back to Gendry. “You made me armor?”

Gendry nodded. “Out of Valyrian steel. It was the only set I’d managed before the waves. As well as a breastplate for Her Grace. I can have them brought up for you, Your Grace.” Jon was quiet for a long moment.

“He’d love to see it and try it on Gendry. And I’d like to see what you made for me.” Dany answered for him. He looked at her and saw fire blazing in her eyes. It didn’t go unnoticed by him that she had a particular attraction to his warrior persona, and it appeared the idea of him in armor was just as stirring as anything else.

“Geez, at least get a room to yourselves if you’re going to look at him like that.” Arya snidely cut in. Dany just turned to her, raised an eyebrow, and smirked.

Just then, two servants reappeared with trays of food. Jon looked up at the servant girl who brought him his meal. She was young, but smiled at Jon and bowed her head quickly, meeting his eyes squarely. Dany’s servant was even younger, a girl not even ten it appeared. She refused to meet Dany’s eyes as she brought the queen her food. Dany smiled but the girl still refused to look up. Both girls scurried away as Jon and Dany sat with their food in front of them ready to dine. Jon took a bite of his while Arya and Dany continued to exchange words about Jon. He rolled his eyes and continued to scarf down food. Arya had subtly taken a bit of Dany’s food for testing as per usual.

After a fiery discussion of their lovers’ prowess that made both Jon and Gendry squirm uncomfortably and Davos chuckle continuously, Dany finally went to go eat. Just as she lifted the morsel to her mouth, Arya reached over the table and knocked it out of her hands.

All of them sat there for a few seconds staring in horror. Arya’s test had come back positive for poison, the vial in her hand a bright blue. The Unsullied guard sitting on Dany’s other side turned and gave a loud and harsh command in Valyrian to his men who raced into the kitchens. Arya reached over and snagged a bit of Jon’s food, pushing it into another vial. Dany turned and looked at him in terror. He had already eaten over half his plate. Everyone at the table sat rigid for a long moment. Jon was going to be sick; he could feel his stomach already turning. He was almost convinced he had swallowed enough poison to kill him. He looked at Dany with her wide purple eyes and felt despair well up inside of him. Just months ago, he was determined to die on the battlefield and be done with it. Now, he wanted more than anything to stay with her.

They both turned to look at Arya as she let out a sigh of relief. The vial hadn’t changed colors. His food was fine. His stomach settled as the knowledge that he wasn’t poisoned sunk into his mind. Then terrifying resolve filled Jon as he realized what this meant. Someone had tried to poison his queen, his love. He turned to Arya. “Have you been testing our food since we came back?” He asked quickly.

She nodded. “The whole time I’ve been here. Remember before you left there was a question about loyalty and I’ve been really careful about food, especially with Varys around.”

Jon saw red. Varys. The one who had plotted with Illyrio Mopatis in Pentos. The one who had decided Jon was the better candidate and was shopping for a wife for him. Sansa had uncovered the communications he’d had with multiple people about his plan. Baelish had kept meticulous records of the secret plot. They still weren’t sure how much of a role Arianne Martell had played in the whole thing. He turned to Davos. “Find Varys now. I want him held under guard in a solar until we can get the castle cleared of the smallfolk.” The older man hesitated for a moment, he hadn’t been made aware of the uncovered plot, but Jon just held his eye. Davos nodded quickly and moved toward the exit of the hall, a few Unsullied following him at Dany’s direction.

***

Jon stood on the roof of the great hall and looked out on Dragonstone and Driftmark. The other island was still smoking, the mountainous half had nearly disappeared completely. If anyone had survived, he wasn’t sure how. The sun was finally pushing through the ash in the air, shining an eerie red over them. The sea was still churning, the water looking more black than usual, debris still washing up on the shore. The waves had receded, and the villagers were slowly making their way back down to their homes from the castle. Jon sighed as he joined the Unsullied in brushing the layers of ash off the surface below him. The maesters had insisted it get cleaned off before the roof collapsed under the weight.

Dany was holding court below in the hall, helping the smallfolk who didn’t have homes to go home to, and making arrangements to help rebuild. He was proud of how much she cared about the people on her island and he had to admit there was a sense of peace doing the mundane work of a liege lord. She had been angry when he volunteered to do the dangerous work up on the slanted surface, but with a limited number of men at the castle, he wanted to help where he could.

Varys was confined in Jon’s previous solar awaiting his reckoning. Davos and the Unsullied had locked him in the night before and he had silently taken the treatment. Jon was now completely moved in with Dany in the Lord’s chambers, the ones that had held generations of Targaryen couples. Neither he nor Dany had slept well after the discovery of the poison. After both of them tossing and turning for at least an hour, he had rolled over and buried his face in her sweet cunt, eating her out until they were both spent. She’d offered to return the favor, but he had been content to bring her relief and had just wanted to curl up with her.

By the time he had finished with the major roofs of the castle, most of the day had passed and he was once again covered head to toe in black ash. He made his way down to the hot springs on his own, wanting to leave water for the other men. He was relaxing after washing in the main basin when heard footsteps enter the cave. He looked over to see Dany walk in from the passageway.

She smiled fondly at him but made no move to join him. Instead, she moved over to the stirring dragons in the corner. He could hear her cooing at them and speaking in hushed tones. All three were wrapped around her so that she was barely visible. They made contented noises as she stroked their faces and rubbed her cheek against theirs. After a short time, she moved away from them and turned back to Jon. They moved behind her and made their way back up the passageway for them to escape into the open air.

“I’m going to kill him.” Dany said resolutely.

Jon just nodded slowly. “I didn’t expect anything different. Are you sure you want to be the one to do it?”

Dany sighed and looked him in the eye. “It was me he poisoned, me he conspired against. This isn’t something I can pass off to you.” He went to speak, but she waved him off. “I know you would, Jon. That’s not in question, but we’re not a king and queen where you’re expected to protect me from everything. We work together, and this one's on me.”

“My father used to say, ‘the man who passes the sentence, swings the sword.’” Jon said with a smirk, thinking back to the Night’s Watch deserter who had lost his head to Ned Stark’s honor. He wondered what he would think if he knew the whole story. If he knew what that man had likely seen.

“You still refer to him as your father, and the Starks as your siblings.” Dany said cautiously.

“He’ll always be my father, and they’ll always be my siblings.” Jon chuckled. “I spent so much of my life insisting I wasn’t a Stark, trying to build armor around my bastard status, and now I know that I always was and will be a Stark.” Daenerys looked lost at his statement and wouldn’t meet his eyes. He reached out and grabbed her hand. “I’m also a Targaryen, but I’m just learning what that means.”

She looked at him with her big purple eyes. “What does it mean for you?”

“It means I have an obligation to more than just the North. It means I have magic that I don’t understand. It means that there is a fire in me that burns constantly. And it definitely means that I’m predisposed to adore silver hair and violet eyes.” Jon said sweetly, curling one of his fingers in her hair.

“Does it bother you that we’re related?” Dany asked curiously.

Jon shook his head. “No. People have been marrying their relations for hundreds of years, and I know that I’m right where I belong.”

Daenerys smiled at him and leaned over the edge of the basin to kiss him. Their tongues curled around each other lazily and he was very tempted to pull her into the water. She pulled back and met his eyes with heat. “You are far too tempting in here, my love. It shouldn’t be allowed.” He smiled at her. He loved this time with just the two of them, it reminded him of the first few weeks here at Dragonstone when it was just the two of them getting to know each other. The easiness between them restored now that they had chosen one another. “Jon, I need you to get out of here. Gendry has our armor ready for us to try and we need to take care of Varys. The dragons are ready to fly, and we’ve put off King’s Landing for too long.”

Jon nodded and moved out of the pool towards the dry linen he had left out for himself. Dany beat him there and picked it up to help wipe the water from his body and hair. He smirked as she took liberties with the bits of him that she squeezed. “You’re going to start something we don’t have time to finish, my queen.”

“Who says we don’t have time, my king?” Dany said with a wicked gleam in her eye. She knelt down in front of him and he reached for her, intending to pull her back to her feet. She simply shook her head at him and took his cock in her hand. “You were so generous with me last night, Jon. Let me return the favor.” He moaned as her tongue reached out and licked up his length. She ran her hand tightly up and down his shaft and her other hand played with his balls. He ran his hand gently through her hair and she looked up at him with her violet eyes glinting in torch light. He sucked in a deep breath quickly as she took him into her mouth. 

“I’m not going to last long.” He warned her. He didn’t have much control when he was in her mouth. Sure enough, it only took a few more minutes of her skilled tongue before he was ready to explode. “Dany, I’m going to come.” He looked down at her, expecting her to pull back, but instead she pulled him closer until he released down her throat. He groaned as he watched her swallow him down. He was breathing harshly as she released him and subtly wiped at her mouth. She smiled coyly at him as he wrapped a hand around her the nape of her neck and pulled her in for a hot kiss. He sighed and released her, resting his forehead against hers. “I’d love to continue this, but we should get going.” He said.

She sighed. “It never ends, does it?” Daenerys looked particularly put out as he moved and started dressing. Once he was finished, he turned back to her. “Enjoy the show?” he asked.

Dany smiled at him widely, eyebrows raising. “I much prefer the opposite, actually. I like watching and helping you undress.” He groaned and moved toward her wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulled her into another long, slow, and sensual kiss. He gently bit down on her full lower lip and licked inside her mouth. They lost themselves for a long moment together. They ended the encounter with their foreheads pressed together again, breathing heavily.

“Let’s get this done.” Jon said, and Dany nodded against him. They walked together back to the cellar and then up through the castle. Dany led Jon to the normal forges in one of the courtyards. They saw Gendry covered in soot and ash and surrounded by packages ready to be taken north for the war to come. Both Gendry and Arya would travel with Davos to Winterfell when Dany and Jon left for King’s Landing. Gendry looked up at their arrival and nodded with a wide smile.

“Ready to try on your armor?” Gendry asked excitedly, an artist wanting to show off his work. Dany grinned at the young man and nodded enthusiastically.

Jon just shook his head at both of them. “Where did you even get my measurements?” Gendry looked up at Jon and looked slightly uncomfortable. “Arya.” Jon said drily. “Well, let’s see what you’ve got Baratheon.” Jon said playfully.

Gendry froze at the name from Jon. “I’m…”

“You’re the last of your house, and you came to help us when you didn’t have to.” Jon said. “I think I speak for both of us when we say you’re more than worthy to carry on the legacy of your house. The good parts of it, that is.” Dany nodded her head and smiled in agreement.

Gendry suddenly looked very emotional. Jon understood what it meant for a bastard to be called by the true name of your family. But the blacksmith had definitely earned the honor. “I hope I live worthy of it.” Gendry said softly.

“We’ll see after I try on this armor.” Jon said with a raised eyebrow. He heard Dany chuckle beside him and from behind him he heard a scoff.

“He worked nonstop on this thing. It’s gorgeous, and it will fit.” Arya said determinedly.

Jon smiled at her. “Did you sit and watch him work on it, Arya? I didn’t know that your interests included metalwork.”

Arya made a face back at him. “My interests include Gendry. So yes, I watched him work on it, and when he got tired, I worked on him.”

Jon nearly threw up at the meaning in Arya’s statement and his face must have shown it because both Arya and Dany started laughing hysterically. “I don’t need to know any of that Arya.” He turned and pointed at Dany. “And I don’t need you encouraging her.”

“Oh come on Jon, like the entire castle doesn’t know that you two locked yourselves away for the last few days fucking nonstop.” Arya said, rolling her eyes.

Jon growled in her direction. She held her hands up in surrender. “I like Daenerys. I like the two of you together, just don’t judge me for how I spend my time.”

Seeing that he wasn’t going to win this conversation, Jon stopped talking and moved further into the forge, unhooking his sword belt as he went. He could hear Dany and Arya having a soft conversation behind him. They were going to be trouble. He should have known that Dany meeting his sisters would just cause problems for him. All three were strong women and would always be at least one step ahead of him.

He stopped short as his eyes landed on the set of armor in front of him. It glinted in the dim light of the forge. The armor was made of the Valyrian steel Gendry had been forging and the distinctive swirls in the metal made the set look like it was moving in the firelight. Where the leather he would wear under the metal had been recreated in black for him with dragon scale detail, the armor was all wolf. There were significant breaks in the different pieces which Jon appreciated, the spaces giving him more movement with his limbs. The bottom of his biceps to the top of his forearm would be bare of metal as would his legs beneath the knees. The black leather gambeson that Dany had made for him would show in those places.

The breastplate and plackart were smooth dark steel but with etchings resembling flowing fur. The pauldrons that would cover his shoulders were both wolf heads, with the snarling mouth opening over his biceps. The gauntlets looked large enough to cover most of his forearms, the metal coming to a point toward the elbow. On the left one was the wolf sigil of House Stark and on the right was the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen. The plates that were meant to cover his thighs were smooth steel, designed to give him freedom to move quickly. The whole suit looked heavier than anything he had ever worn, but he couldn’t deny that it was perfect. He turned to look in shock at Gendry. “Can you squire for me?”

“It would be my honor, Your Grace.” Gendry replied with a smile. “Do you like it?”

“It’s incredible Gendry, absolutely beautiful.” Jon said. “You certainly have a gift, first the swords and now this?”

Gendry just shrugged as he helped strap the thigh plates into place. “Smithing was my chosen trade. I wanted to be the best.” Jon nodded at him. “Have you ever worn a full suit like this, Your Grace?” Gendry strapped the breastplate around Jon.

Jon nodded. “As a boy, yes, just practice suits. But most of the time I’ve just worn heavy leathers. Steel was a hard thing to come by in the Watch. It might take me a little bit to get used to wearing the full thing.” The pauldrons were next, they fit snugly on Jon’s shoulders and he was worried about swinging a sword. Gendry held out Longclaw to him and he spent some time practicing maneuvers and was happily surprised to see he had more movement than he thought.

“I’d imagine you wouldn’t have to wear the whole thing all the time. Mostly the breastplate regularly. Which is why I made a breastplate for Her Grace, but I wanted you to have a full suit for the big battles.” Gendry said as he helped Jon attach the gauntlets. “I thought about a helmet, but it’s more curved than anything else I’ve made with Valyrian steel and it didn’t really seem possible at the time.”

“I don’t really want a helmet, so that works for me.” Jon replied with a smile.

At this point Jon was fully strapped in and Gendry stepped back to admire his work. The suit fit perfectly; Arya had been right. It was heavy, but not as much as Jon was expecting. The men moved out of the forge toward Dany and Arya who were still out in the courtyard. Arya whistled lowly as he walked out, and Dany turned to look at him.

Jon didn’t know if he’d ever seen Dany as aroused as she was in that moment. Her pupils were dilated, and it was if she forgot to breathe. He knew she had a thing for the warrior part of his persona. She had made that very clear, but this was a completely different level. The fire in her fueled the fire in him and he was sure if they’d been alone, he’d already have her up against the nearest wall. She cleared her throat, obviously trying to get herself together. “It’s beautiful Gendry, you did an excellent job.”

Gendry bowed his head. “Thank you, Your Grace. It was my honor.”

Dany licked her lips and swallowed, trying to gain control. Arya laughed at her discomfort. “Geez, you guys are bad. I mean I thought Gendry and I were, but we’re nothing compared to the two of you.”

Jon shot her a scathing look that basically said, “shut up.”

“I want to see Dany’s armor now.” Jon said. “She’ll be just as involved in battles and I want her protected while she’s on Drogon.”

Gendry nodded. “I know we wanted to see armor options for the dragons, but we just didn’t have time. The horsemaster did come up with a saddle though.”

Jon looked at Dany for her response. She just shrugged. “I’ve never used a saddle with Drogon, but if we’re going to be in intense battles with the dragons, it might be worth it. Let’s see my breastplate now Gendry, if you don’t mind.”

Gendry nodded and disappeared back into the forge. He returned with a much smaller piece than Jon’s. “I ran out of time to do more than the breastplate, but I hope you’ll like this.”

Both Jon and Dany gasped. The smaller breastplate and an obvious different shape than Jon’s, definitely made for a woman’s form. It also was different in the details. While Jon’s armor was covered in wolves, Dany’s was full of dragon detail. The three headed Targaryen dragon took up most of the area on the front plate, the whorls of the necks and tail of the dragon artfully draped around the metal. The whorls of the trademark pattern in Valyrian Steel gave motion to the scales of the dragon. Gendry stepped forward to fit the piece on Daenerys, but Jon took it from him. “I’ll do it. Thank you, Gendry.” He said. 

Jon turned to Daenerys and strapped the breastplate and it’s back to her torso. She sucked in a breath as he tightened the straps at her shoulders and waist before stepping back to see the effect. Jon understood now the heat he saw in her eyes. His betrothed looked every inch a hardened commander with her metal armor over her dark dress. Her silver braids clinked against the plates. Gendry disappeared and reappeared yet again. This time he held a sword belt in his hands with a smaller blade than either of his. 

“I also forged a sword for you, Your Grace.” Gendry said. “I know it may not be your weapon of choice, but a good thing to have on any battlefield.” 

Jon took the belt and blade from him and secured it to her hips. “You make quite the formidable pair.” Arya said. They grinned at each other and then at Gendry. 

“Thank you so much, Lord Baratheon.” Dany said with a smile. “We will be forever in your debt.” The blacksmith smiled bashfully and bowed his head to the royal couple.

“Here you all are. I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” Davos said suddenly. Everyone turned to look at the older man who was looking at Jon and Daenerys with a look of awe. “That armor is magnificent, Your Graces.” He turned to look at Gendry. “I assume this is your work?”

Gendry nodded at him. “Well lad, I think it’s brilliant.” Gendry smiled warmly at the older man. “I’d hate to break all of this up, but we have Varys down at the entrance to the caves as you asked.

That brought the mood crashing down. Jon and Dany exchanged a long look as they sobered up. Jon strapped his sword belt around his armor-clad waist. He was finally getting used to carrying both swords, one on each side to balance the weight. Jon, Dany, and Arya followed Davos down to the beach, leaving Gendry behind in the forge. They walked in silence. There wasn’t anything more to say. Dany had told Davos and Arya about the plot to marry Jon to Arianne and then get Dany out of the way. While they still didn’t have the full story, the girl who delivered the poisoned food to Daenerys had confessed to working for Varys. There was nothing left to do but talk to Varys and pronounce judgement.

Varys stood calmly at the mouth of the northern caves. As usual his hands were folded in his oversized flowing robes and he looked bored standing there waiting for them to arrive. The Unsullied formed a loose cage around him on all sides. Jon stood back with Davos and Arya as Daenerys stepped forward. Varys was her advisor, the Unsullied were her men, and whatever happened here tonight was her decision.

“Lord Varys.” Daenerys said folding her hands together in front of her calmly.

“Your Grace.” Varys responded just as calmly.

“You swore to serve me Varys.” Daenerys stated. Jon watched the interaction with fascination. The two people squaring off against each other both had patience and were playing a very careful cat and mouse game.

“I swore to serve the rightful ruler of the realm.” Varys said. “I no longer believe that to be you.”

“You’ve served Targaryens before, correct?” Dany asked.

“Yes.” Varys answered nodding.

“I’m sure you know that we tend to have tempers.” Dany said calmly. “Especially when we’re betrayed and threatened.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Your Grace.” Varys said, finally relenting to her tone.

“I want you to admit that you’ve been trying to kill me and replace me with Jon.” Daenerys said. “I want you to tell me what your plan was and who else was involved.”

“Why would I do that?” Varys scoffed.

“Because you claim to serve the rightful ruler of the realm, which you have decided is Jon.” Dany said. “And Jon wants to know why you would want his betrothed dead.”

Varys’s eyes moved to meet his and he simply nodded. He did want to know. He wanted the entire plot out in the open. “The plan was to marry Jon to Arianne Martell and yes, get rid of you so that Jon could rule on the throne. No one else knew but Illyrio Mopatis and to an extent, Arianne. Apparently my plans were intercepted, I can only guess by Petyr Baelish.”

“What extent was Arianne involved?” Jon asked briefly.

“Arianne knew we were trying to marry you two. She approved. You’re young, attractive, and would be accepted on the throne after King’s Landing was taken. It was a good alliance for her.” Varys said. “She thought you two would remain Daenerys’s heirs until she passed. She just didn’t realize that I meant for that to happen fairly soon.”

“I still don’t understand why you traded loyalty now.” Daenerys said. “We’re just a few months away from taking the capital, I brought my dragons and armies here. Why switch before you actually got your results?”

Varys shrugged. “Your reign would have always been contested by Jon. Maybe not by Jon himself, but by the other nobles. Your dragons and armies were the only remarkable thing about you, and he bonded with one of them and anyone could command the Dothraki and Unsullied.”

Dany smirked and chuckled. “Varys, I thought you were intelligent. The Unsullied and Dothraki follow me because I freed them and showed strength before them. They chose me. They don’t just choose anyone. And my dragons are my children. Jon may be bonded with Rhaegal, but he’s still my son. You underestimated everything, including Jon. He’s a Stark, and he’s meant to be a king, but he’s also a Targaryen. He’s my blood and it will be the two of us against the world.”

“You, like Petyr Baelish before you, miscalculated. You missed the long game. You thought me weak, when I am strong. I will rule the Seven Kingdoms, House Targaryen will take their rightful place on the throne and restore peace to Westeros, despite the chaos you attempted to create.” Daenerys stood up straighter. “I, Daenerys, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, Breaker of Chains, and Mother of Dragons find you guilty of treason and sentence you to death.”

Varys lowered his head. “I truly hope for the sake of all living under your rule that you do not have the same weaknesses that have plagued your house before you. I have done what I could.”

Jon could hear Dany’s inhale of breath. Jon knew one of her greatest fears was to turn to the worst part of Targyaren nature. She turned to look at him, but he just met her eye squarely. This wasn’t his decision, it was hers, and she would never become her father, he knew her heart and her soul, she needed to believe that too. She turned back to Varys and stood before him proudly.

“Dracarys.” She said simply. Out of the cave came Drogon’s large head, his mouth settled just over Varys’s head and let out a bout of flame. After a few seconds all that was left of Varys was a pile of ashes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter puts to rest any questions about Euron. He's dead. Gone. Buried at sea. Along with Theon and Yara who were unfortunate victims of their uncle.


	20. Daenerys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daenerys commands her armies in the camp outside King’s Landing. New plots and enemies are discovered. The battle for King’s Landing begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Wednesday!
> 
> Back to KL. Thanks AbstractlySydney!

Daenerys looked down at the tiny figures below her, the black dots in a clean formation across the plain while horse mounted dots weaved in and out of the grid of men. The Unsullied stood still in their lines standing in front of the Lion’s Gate. The flat land that was usually used for tourneys was now covered in her armies. From her vantage point on Drogon, Dany could see the responding forces on the other side of the wall inside the city. The shiny armor of the Golden Company reflected the sunlight. Without their elephants, they were just an extra company of men. No match for her overwhelming forces and her dragons.

She and Jon were scouting from above, getting the best view of the city and staying well out of range of any of the devices that might be able to throw a bolt their way. She could see her camp from here, the tents set up in the hills in distinct groups. The armies had been taking turns standing on the fields in front of the gates. Today the bulk of her forces were in front of the Lion’s Gate for a very specific purpose. While the Unsullied and Dothraki kept the attention of the Golden Company and Lannister forces, a small group of Reach men were making their way around the city to the Dragon Gate. She thought it was rather ironic that this was the gate that seemed to be the key to entering the city.

All of the information they were receiving from Clara inside the city said that corner of the city was the quietest. Most of the guards preferred to stay away from the Dragon Pit and Flea Bottom. Maybe due to the smell of the poor part of the city. All attention was focused either on the massive armies on the fields or at the three dragons circling above the city, the small contingent of men should be able to enter the city with no problem. Ser Gareth Fossoway led the men, all of them were dressed in basic clothing, no armor. The plan was for them to infiltrate from the inside. She and Jon circled for a long while until she saw the Dragon Gate close with her men on the inside of the city. Once they had accomplished the task they’d set out to do for the day, the dragons returned them to camp.

“Success.” Dany said as she entered the strategy tent. Tyrion, Missandei, Jorah, Ser Redwyne, Arianne, and Qhono all looked up as she exclaimed. All of them nodded and Tyrion moved a small piece decorated with a flower on the map from the representation of her camp to the inside of King’s Landing. Jon entered the tent shortly after her in his full set of armor. He was still getting used to the extra weight and said that wearing it as much as possible would make it easier when it came to fighting in it. She didn’t have a problem with it, other than the fact that it took an extraordinarily long time to get him naked. She also wasn’t the only one who found him irresistible in his Valyrian armor. Arianne looked at him as if he were a sweet morsel on the supper table and she’d even caught several Dothraki women following his movements across camp. Her betrothed was a comely man with his northern coloring and subtle Valyrian grace.

“Good. That puts us in a good position to end the siege as quickly as possible.” Ser Redwyne said. “They have to be feeling the lack of food entering the city. I doubt they were keeping stores yet. It’s too early in winter.”

The siege was now in its’ third week, Dany and Jon had returned four days prior and were now fully ingrained into the rhythm of camp life. Jon sparred with several men a day of all different backgrounds to prepare for any enemy he might meet. His afternoon melees in the middle of camp were becoming almost a spectator sport for everyone in camp. The sessions had also brought a sense of unity to the army, many men placing bets on the bouts. In the process, Jon had gained the respect of most of her men in camp, but he never tried to usurp her leadership. She still handled any disputes and made the final decisions when it came to strategy. The unification of House Targaryen was keeping all of the many different people of their armies close together.

The wagons of supplies to the capital were being commandeered as soon as they came into sight, but Jorah had been the one to suggest that they not hurt the delivery people and compensate them for their time. It was a good call because word was spreading that the Dragon Queen’s armies treated all of the merchants with respect and still paid them for their goods. Now they didn’t even have to chase down the supply trains, they just came straight to camp instead of trying to get to the city at all. The Dothraki were usually in charge of bringing in the goods, they were intimidating and reinforced the idea of surrender to the Westerosi tradesmen. But all of them left with empty wagons and pockets full of gold.

“Starvation makes people desperate.” Jorah added. “We don’t want to let this go on much longer.”

“Also, we don’t want to give Cersei time to move the negative narrative to us.” Arianne added. “The city still has half a million people. If we enter with a city full of angry people that would not be good for us at all.”

“Cersei blew up a large chunk of the city with wildfire, do you really think they still follow her?” Jorah countered to Arianne.

She just shrugged. “People follow what they know and if your leader is saying a hoard of barbarians are at your gate that will pillage and rape if they’re let in, you’re more likely to resist.” Qhono shifted uncomfortably next to Arianne looking down at the woman with a harsh glint in his eyes. It did not go unnoticed by the Dornish princess. She glanced up at his face and put a hand on his arm. “I’m not saying anything more than Cersei and her men are saying to the people in that city right now.”

Dany raised her eyebrows at the familiarity between the two and she looked over at Missandei. She looked back and subtly shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. “I think we can all agree that it would be best to end the siege as soon as possible. What will get us there?” Dany asked the whole group.

“We could always just burn the Lannisters out of the Red Keep.” Arianne said with a wicked look. “Give her a taste of her own actions.”

Tyrion shook his head. “According to our intelligence, Cersei has opened the lower courtyard to some of the people from the outlying areas of the Crownlands. She’s purposely packed the castle with innocent people. Not that she cares about them, but she knows that we do.”

“Do we really?” Arianne asked seriously.

Both Jon and Dany turned to her and answered with a firm “yes.” Arianne just shrugged and acquiesced.

“There’s also the issue of the ballistae.” Tyrion continued. “You both can fly high over the city but there’s no getting close with the walls lined with them.”

“That’s easily remedied.” Dany answered. “We have three dragons. They might be able to handle one with those contraptions, but not three. They’ll be our first priority, along with whatever ships are left in the harbor.”

“If we burn what’s left of the ships, we’re left with absolutely no fleet.” Tyrion argued. “There are a few vessels here and there, but the bulk of any Westerosi armada will be gone.”

“Those are Greyjoy ships.” Dany reasoned. “They’ll never follow us no matter what we do, might as well get rid of them. If there is anything I learned about my encounter with Euron it’s that his men will fight to the death, happily. With Euron and his cursed ship and dragon horn at the bottom of the sea, I’m fine with destroying the rest of them.”

“Setting fire to the boats would cause a large distraction if we wanted to attack the city.” Ser Redwyne said with a shrug.

“And other kingdoms do have ships, Lord Tyrion.” Arianne pointed out. “This will not be the end of all navies in Westeros. In fact, these are the only ships that are currently not loyal to Their Graces.”

“What is your real concern with burning the ships Tyrion?” Dany asked him seriously. “You must have one or you wouldn’t have voiced the opinion.”

Tyrion bowed his head and breathed deep. The real reason became very clear to Dany. “If you have any grand ideas to save your sister from what will be her fate, you might as well let them go now. She will be tried for her crimes and be brought to justice. There will be no escape for Cersei Lannister.”

“It’s not Cersei, she can rot in the seven hells for all I care.” Tyrion responded. “I’m concerned for Jaime. He was always good deep down and I think he can be redeemed.”

“We always wish that for our siblings, Tyrion. I hoped it for Viserys all the way to the end. Even when he threatened to cut my child from my body, I still would have spared him his life.” Dany answered honestly for Tyrion’s sake. She looked up and met Jorah’s eyes, the one person still with her that had been present that fateful day in Vaes Dothrak. “But Drogo was right in his punishment. Anything of the brother that was kind to me in my youth was gone, and he did far more damage than good. Jaime Lannister may be redeemable, but save you, he has no allies left, and too many enemies.”

“And whether or not he has a core of good, he went along with all of the machinations of your father and then your sister. He carried out some of their most dreadful orders.” Jon said sympathetically. “He threatened to launch Edmure Tully’s baby boy into a castle wall.”

“Tyrion, all of our allies will rebel if we allow either Cersei or Jaime to escape this.” Dany said seriously.

“I understand, Your Grace.” Tyrion said. He grabbed his chalice of wine and downed it in one gulp. Everyone in the tent looked at the small man nervously. She could sense the concern of the council.

“All of you are dismissed.” Dany said to the group. “Except for Lord Tyrion, Missandei, and Jorah.” She half expected Jon to protest and want to remain, but he simply gave her a smile and turned to leave the tent, speaking with Horas Redwyne as he went. Arianne and Qhono followed at a slower pace and Arianne stopped to speak to her.

“I know we’re on shaky ground right now, Your Grace.” Arianne started. Dany and Jon had pulled Arianne in when they arrived at camp a few days earlier and spoke with her about her part in Varys’s plot. She insisted that she was simply seeking an alliance with Jon, nothing more, and had no desire to cross the Dragon Queen. They had decided to leave her be, but not without a stern warning. It seemed to be working because Arianne had dropped nearly all of her sarcasm and was nothing but perfectly obedient the last few days, obviously sensing she was the subject of the dragons’ wrath. “But I was always taught to never trust a Lannister. It makes me nervous that he’s your Hand, and I will hold you responsible if he lives up to his family’s reputation.”

“What makes you think I care about the opinion of someone who was going to willfully profit from my death, Arianne? You’re not in any position to make demands or state ultimatums.” Dany cut her with a scathing look as the princess cast an angry look at Tyrion. Arianne ducked her head at the reprimand and turned and left the tent quickly. Dany then turned her attention to Tyrion. “What were you thinking?”

Tyrion flinched at her harsh tone and opened his mouth to speak but she interrupted him. “All of these people are barely aligned with one another. And do you know the one thing that unifies all seven kingdoms behind Jon and me right now? Do you?” Tyrion swallowed hard and met her eyes. “Hatred for your siblings, for your house. This is not the first time I have been questioned on my choice of you as Hand. Every single ally that has joined this endeavor has questioned your place. And then you go and try and save them? To give them an escape route?”

“I just wanted to give Jaime a chance, that’s all. Just Jaime.” Tyrion said.

“And how was he supposed to know that he had that chance to escape?” Dany asked. “Have you been communicating with him?”

Tyrion shuffled his feet and dropped his gaze again. Dany felt rage build up in her body, she could hear the roars of all three dragons in the distance in response. “Tell me. Now. And I might not have you killed for treason.  _ Might _ not. Jon will probably have a different opinion.”

“And Jon’s opinion now dictates everything?” Tyrion questioned defiantly.

“Jon is the king!” Dany smacked her hand down on the table. “He rules with me. We share power, and while his decision is not the final one, he is consulted, constantly. And to be clear, he was already weary of you.” Daenerys was close to losing it. Tyrion looked mutinous before her and Jorah wrapped his hand around the pommel of his sword in response. Missandei had moved to Dany’s side and was looking between her queen and the advisor.

“It’s a mistake. Sharing power with him. The lords will never take you seriously while he shares the throne with you.” Tyrion said scathingly.

“Really, because right now you’re at my mercy, not his.” Dany said back. “Now stop deflecting. What did you do Tyrion?”

“I sent him ravens. That’s all. I was telling him that we had the advantage and I encouraged him to leave King’s Landing.” Tyrion responded. “He told me he wouldn’t go without Cersei, that she was pregnant again.”

Dany just looked at him for a long moment with her jaw clenched. The man in front of her had made significant military mistakes. Those she could forgive, he wasn’t a military man, but subterfuge and political warfare was his strength, supposedly. Unless it came to actually killing his family apparently. “What did you tell him Tyrion?”

“I told him how many men we had and that we were allied with nearly all the kingdoms and they didn’t have a leg to stand on.” Tyrion said.

“You told the enemy how many men they were facing?” Jorah asked incredulously. “Are you really that stupid?”

“I told Jaime not to tell Cersei.” Tyrion said miserably. Everyone in the tent scoffed and rolled their eyes. Jorah groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. Dany sent a quick prayer for patience, but as she looked up to the top of the tent, a horrifying thought came to mind.

“Tyrion, did you tell him that we had intelligence from inside the city.” Dany asked harshly.

He shrugged. “I might have mentioned it as another fact to convince him to give up.”

All of the sudden, the ground shook. Dany instinctively leaned her hands forward on the table to keep herself upright. Tyrion actually fell to the ground, and Jorah reached out for the post next to him. Dany grabbed Missandei’s arm as the woman unsteadily moved around. The ground settled and an eerie silence permeated the space. As if someone had opened a door to a new room, the air filled with screams of shock. Footsteps pounded on the ground around them and the tent flaps opened to the outside world. Jon stood there with a crazed look in his eye. He said one word. “Wildfire.”

That galvanized everyone into action at once and they all moved out of the tent quickly. Dany feared the worst, expecting to see her camp on fire. There were no screams of pain close by, but she could hear them on the wind. She looked around quickly trying to determine what was happening. She turned and looked at King’s Landing. Most of the city was untouched, buildings sitting in the morning light like it was just an ordinary day. The same could not be said for the section of the city called Flea Bottom. Where once stood the slums of the city, where the poorest inhabitants lived basically on top of one another, only smoke rose. They could still see green flames racing up the sides of buildings and structures were still collapsing. It seemed like everything was happening in slow motion.

Her focus came back in full force as she watched the ballistae on the walls of the city turn toward the ranks of the unmoved Unsullied. She watched in horror as the Golden Company and Lannister men released the large bolts into the former slave soldiers. Jon turned to look at her with fierce determination in his eyes, fire blazed in the center. Rhaegal roared, responding to his rider’s determination. “It’s time, Dany.” He said to her. “They’re forcing our hand.”

She nodded reluctantly in return. He leaned forward and laid a quick and hard kiss to her mouth and then turned to bark out orders to the commanders. He turned back to her after asking for a horse. “You’ll go up with the dragons, I need to be on the ground.” She shook her head, she expected them both to command from dragonback. “Rhaegal needs his rider, Jon.” She responded.

He shook his head. “You don’t need me up there. I’d just be a hindrance to you. I need to be with the armies, they need their commander with them. You know the plan. Start with the ships. Then take out the ballistae on the walls. If you have the opportunity, hit their armies in the biggest groups, then head to the Red Keep. I’ll meet you there. Do not go in there Dany until you have some of us with you. You don’t know what she’s got in the castle.”

She nodded, and grabbed him by the back of the neck, forcing his eyes to meet hers. “Be careful, Jon Targaryen. I’ll be very angry with you if you come back to me in anything less than perfect condition.” A smile spread across his face and lit his eyes. “I love you.” He said simply. They shared another quick kiss before separating.

Jon mounted the horse brought to him by Horas Redwyne, and they shared one last long look. “I’ll see you at the Red Keep, my queen.” He nodded then turned to ride off with the Reach men. The battle for King’s Landing had begun.

***

Dany moved toward her dragons, rushing the opposite way of most of her men. She heard an address over the commotion, “Your Grace!” Dany turned to see Missandei running toward her. “Your Grace, I have your armor.” She looked down to her body and realized she hadn’t put her breastplate and sword on earlier in the day. Dany reached out and pulled her close. Missandei helped get the breastplate over her dress and secured it with the leather straps and then hooked the sword belt around her waist with the blade resting on her left hip as Jon had taught her. She looked up at Missandei. “Thank you, my friend.”

“I prefer that you just use dragon fire, Your Grace. How about you not get yourself in a situation where you have to fight face to face, alright?” Missandei teased with a small smile. Dany caught her wrist. “I’ll be very careful, and I’ll see you soon.” Her advisor nodded and stepped back. “Keep an eye on Tyrion. Neither one of you are to enter the city until the armies say so. Do not let him out of your sight.” Dany watched as Missandei made her way back to the center of camp where they had left Tyrion behind. She turned toward her dragons.

All three circled around her and she touched each of their beloved faces, connecting with each one. Viserion with his quick mind, constantly excited to get moving. Rhaegal was divided, keeping one part of his mind constantly connected with Jon but ready to help his mother take the city. Drogon met her eyes squarely. The largest of her sons was ready to burn her enemies and protect his brothers. She communicated to each of them that they had to be careful today, she sent the image of the bolt that had struck Drogon in the Reach. All three dragons seemingly flinched and then growled. Drogon lowered himself closer to the ground and she took the invitation to climb onto his back. Climbing into the newly attached saddle. She had to admit it was a relief to not only be hanging on by the strength in her thighs.

All three took to the air and Daenerys got her first look at the organized chaos below her. She could see Jon and the knights riding toward the city. The Unsullied had been returning fire, back on the walls of King’s Landing, launching spears up at the soldiers. The Dothraki had also responded, the archers firing constant arrows at the men on the walls. The horsemen kept in constant motion. Probably doing their best to create a difficult target for the ballistae. She flew higher as she passed over the city, keeping the dragons out of reach of the large bolts. The harbor was just ahead.

The ships bobbed on the calm water. The sun shone down on them and the scene was strangely peaceful compared to the horror and calamity occurring on the other side of the city. It was quiet, the occasional shout of orders being barked out to the men loading and cleaning the ships. It was as if it was an ordinary day preparing the ships for the sea. There were at least twenty ships still in the harbor, all from the Iron Islands and had been loyal to Euron and by extension, Cersei. Another nearly a hundred were out on the bay. She flew out over the bay first. Drogon, Rhaegal, and Viserion made sure to stay up in the sunlight and out of sight. The movement from their wings caused large bursts of wind to move over the ships and she could see the sails and flags move in response. The men on the ships all seemed to pause in their work and cautiously look up at the sky. Screams of shock and terror filled the air as the men finally recognized the three circling dragons above them. It was too late for any of them to do anything now. “Dracarys.” She ordered firmly. The three dragons flew in and out of the countless ships on the surface of the sea, burning one after another.

This was the fourth battle the dragons had experienced against ships and now all three were very clear on their objective. They focused their fire at the center of the ships, focusing particularly on the center mast. Black smoke rose up as the ships caught fire and the cracks from the burning wood started to fill the air with sound. As she moved into the harbor, men were jumping off the boats into the water, some running up the docks back toward the walls of the city. Over the sound of the fire consuming the wooden vessels she heard shouts coming from the city walls nearby.

She looked up to see the Lannister soldiers turning their giant ballistae in her direction. As if an extension of her own mind, Rhaegal moved away from the ships and moved back up into the sunlight. Viserion followed his brother and Drogon and she remained where they were. She could sense that Rhaegal had a plan. He had always been the more cunning of the three and now, being bonded with Jon he had obviously picked up on strategy from his rider. She watched as the ballistae all targeted her and Drogon. It took all of her will to stay still and trust her other two sons. Her hands tightened on Drogon’s horns and she took a deep breath, preparing for the shot. It never came.

Instead, Viserion and Rhaegal came up from behind the soldiers. They had circled over the city and returned to come up behind the men. Before the men could release their bolts, Viserion and Rhaegal sent flames down over the soldiers. Screams echoed over the harbor as the men succumbed to the flames. She watched as the ballistae collapsed into heaps of charred wood and melted metal.

Suddenly, Drogon jerked upward pulling up fast. Dany nearly tumbled from her mount as the dragon launched himself into the sky. A bolt had barely missed them. She looked down and saw one of the remaining ships with a ballista mounted on top of it. The men were frantically trying to reload the machine when Rhaegal and Viserion settled over the ship and released a stream of fire. The dragons spent the next several minutes burning the ships. The men continued to flee the scene. None of them stopped burning the ships below them until all of them were either a smoldering ruin or half buried in the sea, the water too shallow to swallow the vessels completely. Then the three dragons moved out over the water repeating their actions until all the ships had sunk below the water. With no ballistae it was almost easy to take out the last of the fleet. Their first task completed, Dany and her dragons retreated once again high into the sky, using the sun as a shield.

Daenerys surveyed the city below her. Between the smoke rising from the harbor and city walls on the southeast corner of the city and the smoke rising over a smoldering Flea Bottom, it was nearly impossible to get a view of the whole city. She was grateful that Jon had encouraged scouting missions from dragonback previously. Even though she couldn’t see the city, she knew where everything was. All of the walls were lined with ballistae and that was the first priority so that there were no more weapons against the dragons. She could see the glint of the Golden Company’s armor through the smoke. They were grouped behind the Lion Gate facing her armies and Jon on the other side.

She took a deep breath and sent commands to Rhaegal and Viserion. Rhaegal would fly down the wall along the southern part of the city and Viserion would go around the long way. Viserion was the faster of the two and his fire seemed to be the hottest of all three. Both dragons dived down. She could feel Drogon’s impatience, wanting to join in the destruction with his brothers. She watched as the dragons flew along the city walls, destroying the ballistae as they went. Screams echoed inside the city as the people realized that the dragons had arrived. There was no way to tell them that the dragons wouldn’t harm them. The terror was mounting inside the city as more smoke rose around them. Dany knew the best way to resolve it was to get the battle done as quickly as possible.

Dany watched as soldiers jumped screaming from the walls to either side down below, willing to take the chance of falling to their death rather than receive death by fire. There wasn’t even time to turn the ballistae toward the oncoming dragons, they were moving too fast. The trick would be at the end of their row, near the Lion Gate. Those men would have enough time to turn their bolts toward the approaching Rhaegal and Viserion. Dany could see them turning their devices now. Drogon roared his rage at his brothers being targeted by the dastardly machines. She let him loose. Drogon flew fast and low over the city and released his flame at the ballistae targeting his brothers. She was close enough to see the look of horror on the soldier’s faces as they turned and saw the largest dragon bearing down on them from inside the city. Drogon burned the last of the ballistae on the walls surrounding the Lion Gate.

All three dragons launched themselves back into the sky. As they circled above the armies in front of the city, Dany surveyed the scene. The Golden Company stood in formation in front of the Unsullied, Dothraki, and Westerosi army composed of men from the Reach and Dorne. The mercenaries were all on foot, no cavalry with the exception of their commander. The two sides stood calmly in front of one another, but panic was obviously setting in amongst the sellswords who had just witnessed the decimation of their weapons on the wall behind them. Dany looked down proudly at her men who all stood together. She could see Greyworm standing before his Unsullied. Qhono, Chakko, and Zhowo all screaming and moving their horses in curved patterns behind the stillness of the other armies. Then there was Jon. In full armor sitting astride his mount flanked by Reach knights on either side. The Lion Gate was decorated with Lannister banners and the gate was firmly closed behind the Golden Company. Dany directed the dragons to finish their last task before heading to the Red Keep. They had followed Jon’s orders and so far, everything had gone in their favor. Now it was time to help him enter the city and command his men to finish the battle. Drogon circled above the scene in the smoke and then banked wide so that he flew once again over the city.

Dany and Drogon came up from behind the gate, inside the city. She could see the Lannister army grouped behind the gate, the next line of defense after the Golden Company. They were trying to avoid as many casualties as possible, and Dany hoped that Jon had a tight rein on her men as she watched the citizens of King’s Landing running around terrified. Daenerys looked at the inside of the gate and gave Drogon the order as they flew toward it. Drogon roared and let out a long stream of fire that exploded the gate, not inside the city but out onto the mercenaries. As she flew through the gate and passed over Jon, their eyes met. He had his determined battle look on his face and nodded his thanks. She turned Drogon to join Viserion and Rhaegal in the air. They all hovered in the air, looking out over the city and seeing the result of their work.

Battle was waging below her, and her armies were beginning to stream into the city. The walls were smoking, all of the dreaded ballistae destroyed. She could see the smoke still rising from the water in the distance where she had decimated the last of the fleet. The city’s defences and the fleet had been no match for three dragons. Flea bottom was still actively on fire. The flames were no longer green, but fires were still burning, and if she wasn’t mistaken, it was spreading across the city. She knew that saving people would be just as much a priority for Jon as taking out their enemies would be, so she hoped he sent men to help douse the flames. All that was left for her and the dragons to do was to capture the Red Keep. She looked to the castle and urged the dragons over the city toward the fortress.

***

The Red Keep sat perched at the top of Aegon’s Hill. It was an impressive sight, it’s red walls shining in the ember-filled sky. As Dany and Drogon flew over the castle she could see movement in the lower courtyard. Cersei had moved a large amount of smallfolk into the space, hoping that would deter Dany from attacking. There wasn’t much of a choice now. Cersei had forced her hand by burning Flea Bottom and starting the attacks on her armies. They didn’t know what had prompted her to do it, but it was clear she was the only one who would order the use of wildfire.

According to the intelligence gathered by their contact Clara and the network of women reporting to Sansa, there were a few targets they had to make sure to get in the castle. Cersei was the most notable one. Dany had every intention of capturing the queen and forcing her to stand trial before her people. The other targets included Jaime Lannister and a few lesser-known figures. There was an ex-maester who had made it to the position of Hand of the Queen. His name was Qyburn. From all the information they could gather, he was a bit of a mad scientist performing experiments that went against nature. One of those experiments was the undead Gregor Clegane. The Mountain was of particular interest to many people in Dany’s army. He had been responsible for the death of Oberyn Martell as well as Elia Martell and Rhaegar’s children Aegon and Rhaenys. By all accounts, he had been a horrible man for most of his life and now the palace servants insisted he was an unstoppable monster.

It was for this reason that Jon had been particularly clear that she wasn’t to enter the castle alone. Daenerys wasn’t stupid. She wanted her enemies dead, but not at the price of her own life. She would create a siege here around the keep and wait for her soldiers to meet her at the Red Keep. Dany circled the castle several times, looking for more ballistae. Apparently, they hadn’t equipped the castle beyond the walls which had already been cleared by the dragons. As she passed an open window, Drogon banked so that his chest was pointed toward the wall and she faced open air. She realized the reason for the quick move as arrows whistled passed her head. Behind them, Viserion attached himself to the side of the tower, digging his talons into the red stone. Her white dragon stuck his head near the window and shot flame inside the building. She could hear screams as she watched the fire spread up and down the tower. Satisfied after a few bouts of flame, Viserion detached from the wall and fell down from the tower. His wings filled with air and he roared as he glided away from the towers.

Dany examined the rest of the castle as she and Drogon circled it a few more times. This was her goal; this is what she had worked so hard to achieve. The roof of the Great Hall was massive. She knew the room contained the Iron Throne and could hold at least a thousand people at a time. The stained glass in the windows glinted in the sunlight. She could see the fires burning inside the room wrapped around the columns. Fitting for a queen willing to use wildfire on innocent people. Dany almost had to laugh at the lion attempting to use her medium. Cersei Lannister would know what it was like to be on the receiving end of fire and blood. Rhaegal landed on the roof of the cavernous room and roared his dominance. Viserion dropped down beside him and she couldn’t help but smile. How long had it been since the Targaryen stronghold had been claimed by actual dragons?

She inspected the rest of the castle from the outside as Rhaegal and Viserion kept watch. In the tower of the Hand, she could see a small courtyard on which had been painted a map of Westeros. Even from her height she could see the wrought iron lions that decorated the space. She was very tempted to just start burning away all evidence of Lannister occupation, but she had every intention of claiming the castle for herself, so she left it be for now. There was no sign outside of any of their targets. She knew that the castle had an endless number of secrets and they could literally be anywhere above ground or below. Dany didn’t dare land and get caught off guard.

Dany felt a pull to the building as if her ancestors were calling to her, waiting for the legendary castle to once again be occupied by its chosen family. She could hear the soldiers inside running from one place to another, their armor clanking through the open halls and courtyards. Shouts were echoing through the building. She watched as servants poured out of the building. They most likely had been warned about her coming, they had been feeding them information for months. As they moved into the lower courtyard, she was shocked to see that they didn’t flee the castle outright and then she realized why.

The Lannister men had closed the main gates that separated the courtyard from the rest of the city. Many of the commoners in the courtyard were screaming at the soldiers to open the gates. As she flew closer down towards the people, she could barely make out what they were shouting over the wind in her ears and the sound of Drogon’s wings. She landed Drogon softly on one of the walls of the courtyard. They went largely unnoticed by the crowd below. Above them, Rhaegal and Viserion once again took to the sky to cover their mother and brother.

“You need to let us out!” One man yelled at the soldiers. “She’s going to burn down this whole place. She just burned up one of the towers!”

Another woman screamed, “Flea Bottom is on fire! We have family there! Children! Please let us go to them!”

The soldiers stood stoically before them, refusing to open the doors, no compassion shown on anyone’s face. Several of them had weapons drawn on the men, women, and children in the courtyard. The commander was screaming at them to stay back. One brave man tried to rush the soldiers in desperation to leave the courtyard and a soldier ran him through with his sword. The crowd became even more irate and started yelling even more, calling the soldiers filthy names. In the chaos, Drogon decided to make his presence known and sent an echoing roar across the courtyard. People screamed and rushed to the opposite side of the space. Soldiers on the balconies facing them raised their bows. Drogon burned them all before a single arrow left them. The people in the courtyard ducked, and several men moved toward her with arms raised in the air.

“Please don’t. We don’t have anything to do with this!” A man dressed in Lannister colors screamed. He was older with salt and pepper hair and a trim beard. Based on his clothing he appeared to be a kitchen worker. “We’re just doing our jobs or seeking shelter. Our families have been starving and now they’re burning.”

She looked down on all of them. “You have nothing to fear from me. It was wildfire that destroyed Flea Bottom, not dragon fire. I am here to end her reign of terror, but I need to get in there to do that. You all need to get out, I cannot guarantee your safety once my armies arrive and we take the castle.”

“We’re trying!” Another man yelled frantically. He pointed at the Lannister soldiers at the gate. “They won’t let us out!”

Dany was faced with a choice. She could sit here and wait for Jon and the rest of her armies to come and open the gates, or she could let these people out so that the way would clear. “If I help you, you need to get out of here as quickly as possible. Do not get in the way of my men.” She yelled back to them. Most of the people nodded. She turned to look at the Lannister men. “Move now, or I will move you.”

Most looked up at her stubbornly, spears raised toward her. She shook her head. “Stay back!” She yelled at the common folk. She pulled back on Drogon and he took to the air once more. Like with the Lion Gate, it would be easier to take out the gate from behind it’s guards. They circled out to the front of the castle and she gave the order. “Dracarys.” The gate exploded inward with a bout of fire into the courtyard.

Drogon flew over the top of the gate and once again Dany found herself looking at the lower courtyard. The people were pushing to move out of the newly made entrance. The man from the kitchens looked up at her and met her eyes. He nodded to her solemnly and made his way out the entrance. She watched as most of them ran full out in the direction of Flea Bottom at the bottom of the hill. There were a few that looked lost, obviously not natives of the city who were looking for the nearest shelter.

In the distance Dany could hear the screams of the Dothraki and the clash of steel. Flying higher with Drogon she could see the advancing men coming through the streets of King’s Landing like water flowing down a river. She didn’t see Jon yet, so she decided to do another pass over the castle. She saw Rhaegal and Viserion shooting flames into the castle at varying points. Most likely trying to corral people out of the castle. It was working. She landed Drogon back on the wall of the courtyard as people trickled out of the castle and through the passageway she had created in the gates.

Finally, after what felt like hours of waiting, she heard shouts in the main space outside of the castle. She and Drogon took to the air and landed outside of the gates on the ground. Rhaegal and Viserion landed on top of the gate on either side of her. She could only imagine what they looked like, the three dragons with a Targaryen warlord back to claim her homeland. The Dothraki appeared first riding their horses victoriously. Their screams echoing off the stone walls. The steady march of the Unsullied came next and they moved into perfect formation in front of her. Greyworm was at their head, looking a little worse for wear, but alive. It wasn’t all of her men. Hopefully, some of them had stayed in the city to help the smallfolk. She waited patiently for the arrival of the one man that was meant to take back the castle with her.

Jon Targaryen stepped out of the buildings that lead to Flea Bottom. He was no longer Jon Snow; he was fully a Targaryen king there to claim his victory. One sword in hand and the other still on his belt. His Valyrian steel armor had smudges and blood on it and his face was covered in ash. He didn’t appear to have any injuries and walked with purpose toward her. Ser Horas Redwyne was behind him in a similar state and to the other side was Ser Gareth Fossoway. He had been the one to take Reach men into the city before the wildfire went off. It seemed as if the man had barely survived death. Every inch of his clothing was burned or singed, and his face was caked with blood and ash. He limped carefully behind his king.

Dany didn’t dismount Drogon until Jon was upon her and he took her hand to help her down. “The city surrendered. The common people are being cared for. Our men are putting out fires and evacuating people, finding safe places for them. We took some losses. The Lannisters started attacking people and using them as shields, but we did our best to keep them safe.” Fury raged in Dany at the news of the cowardly lions. “All that is left now is the keep.”

She nodded at him. “I think most of the common people have evacuated by now. All that should be left inside are Cersei, Jaime, and the other main targets.” They both turned and looked up at the huge red castle. “Let’s take our home back.” She said with determination.


	21. Jon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and his forces take King’s Landing from the ground. He travels through Flea Bottom looking for surviving allies. Jon and Daenerys take the Red Keep and the Iron Throne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day lovely readers! 💕
> 
> This chapter overlaps with the previous one, so we get an idea of what Jon was up to in the city while Dany was being all badass on the back of her dragons. I hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> Thanks AbstractlySydney for beta reading!

Jon looked across the field at the men standing opposite of him. Unlike the combined forces behind him, the Golden Company were all uniform in their appearance. Bright golden armor glinted in the sunlight and the horse of their commander shown a bright white. Harry Strickland, the famed commander of the mercenaries sat astride his mount with the posture of a proud man. Jon could see the distaste on his face as he watched the Dothraki ride back and forth screaming with their arakhs held high above them. The man was a prick. Jon didn’t need to even speak with the man to know it.

“Not nearly as scary without the elephants.” Ser Horas Redwyne said at Jon’s side. “In fact, it looks like most of them are ready to shit their pants.”

Jon smirked as he watched the sellswords across the way, some seemingly looking for the nearest escape route. They had been standing at this stalemate for nearly an hour, each side waiting for the other to make a move. The Lannister men in their black armor stood above on the walls of the city, manning the ballistae. No doubt there was also a large group waiting on the other side of the gate. The longer they stood watching each other, the more nervous the Golden Company seemed to get. They should be nervous. Jon and his forces were waiting for a reason.

Distant screams echoed inside the city and on the wind, they could hear the roars of all three dragons. Smoke rose from the opposite direction of the burning Flea Bottom.

“The harbor is burning! The fleet’s on fire!” One of the Lannister men shouted from his vantage point on the wall. The message was intended for Strickland but was delivered to the entire battlefield. “The dragons are burning everything on the water!”

Jon sent up a quick thought to Rhaegal. The dragon’s mind was clouded with battle. The only images Jon really received were of burning ships and the ballistae on the walls overlooking the bay. Drogon was still in the air which meant Dany was safe. It would be a while before she arrived yet. All the ballistae had to be taken out before she could come to their aid. Jon would prefer not to engage with the men now, they’d all need their strength for the fight inside the city and the Red Keep.

“This is fucking boring.” One of the Dornish commanders said whining. “Could we at least take out the Golden Company?”

“You engage them now, and you’ll be suffering dragon fire.” Jon said back. “We need to wait for Daenerys and the dragons to give us the advantage.”

“I can’t believe we’re here, waging war on King’s Landing and we’re waiting for a woman to help us out.” The Dornish man continued.

Jon turned to look at the yellow clad man. “We’re waiting on our queen and her dragons. If you’re that impatient, I’m sure the Lannisters have room for you.” He said gesturing out at the army facing them.

The man made a face at him and muttered under his breath, “fucking Lannisters.” He released a long breath and leaned his head back, staring at the sky.

Jon nearly scoffed at the childish behavior. The truth was, they were all getting nervous and anxiety was setting in. Any moment the opposing forces could decide to continue the conflict, and the Unsullied who had suffered at the hands of the Lannisters and their ballistae were itching to meet the men on the battlefield. Jon looked over at Greyworm. The man was normally steady and calm, but Jon saw why the man was chosen to head the Unsullied as he saw the fierce look of determination on his face. This whole situation was close to exploding. The early actions of the Lannisters had worked the Unsullied and Dothraki into a frenzy and the Reach and Dornish men were anxious to save the city from the wildfire attack. They needed to get this started soon or someone was going to do something stupid.

After what felt like hours, the Lannister men on the walls all started shouting and turning toward the inside of the city. Jon could hear the roar of the dragons getting steadily louder. Screams of terror started to echo from the inside of the walls. The ballistae on the walls that were pointed toward them were turning to find another target. Jon panicked as he realized they were targeting the coming dragons. He could see them now. Viserion was coming around the walls from the North, the long way around the city and Rhaegal was coming from the south. They were flying along the walls burning the ballistae as they went. Neither of them was breathing fire into the city, but just their presence and the fire they were raining down on the walls were throwing everyone into a panic. The dragons wouldn’t make it to the last ballistae before they fired on them. Jon wracked his brain for an idea to distract the soldiers from taking down the two smaller dragons.

Just when he was about to call for a charge, a last-ditch effort to save Dany’s sons, the Lion Gate blew open from the inside. Fire and debris rained down on the Golden Company and the ballistae that had been targeting Rhaegal and Viserion were blown to bits. Through the blaze Drogon rose above the battlefield. His wings pushed more air over the flames and smoke, spreading them over the mercenary army. Jon looked up and met her eyes high above him. He nodded slowly and sent her a smile. She would go now to the Red Keep and his job was to make his way through the city to her. Jon gave the signal and the Dothraki, Unsullied, and Westerosi armies charged on the Golden Company.

Most of the centerline of the Golden Company had fallen to Drogon’s fire. Jon watched with some sense of amusement as Harry Strickland who had had a look of superiority on his face was now running, terrified, back toward the safety of the city. He didn’t get very far, Greyworm’s spear lodged in his back as his men were swamped with the Dothraki. The horsemen never failed to impress Jon as they looked like waves of a sea, moving over their enemies unrelentingly. Several of the mercenaries dropped their weapons and started to run for the hills but in just a few minutes the entire army was decimated by Dany’s cavalry. With the forces outside the wall gone, and the ballistae on the walls destroyed, it was time to enter the city.

On their way to King’s Landing, the commanders had discussed the various paths through the labyrinth that was the city. They concluded that the Dothraki would ride through the streets opposite of Flea Bottom. The goal for them was to intimidate any smallfolk into staying inside their homes and taking out any Lannister soldiers along the way. The Unsullied would march the most direct path to the Red Keep. By doing this, they were most likely to run into the larger Lannister forces. That worked for their army because the Unsullied were used to city combat following Daenerys around Essos. The final contingency, Jon’s Reach and Dornish men would head toward Flea Bottom. The locals were more likely to respond favorably to Westerosi men. The goal was to save as many as they could and help slow the fires on the way to the Keep.

They were under strict orders not to harm the smallfolk in the city. All of Daenerys’s men were only to harm the soldiers fighting them. Jon was slightly nervous about that. He had seen what happened to men in the heat of battle. Jon rode into the city with the armies at his back, the first through the gate. A large group of Lannister soldiers stood before him. “You can fight and die or surrender now and be shown mercy.” Jon said loudly to the group. He heard mumbling behind him that sounded like it came from the Dornish commander that he had been arguing with, but he didn’t have time to turn around and explain because in that moment the Lannisters made their decision.

The group of soldiers in black and gold armor rushed at the large force coming through the gate. Jon just sighed as he watched his men overtake them easily. The Unsullied fought ferociously, their spears jabbing from behind their shields, wielded expertly in such a tight space. Greyworm was particularly impressive as he began a series of complicated moves against four soldiers at once. The Dothraki were limited in their movements as there wasn’t much room to move in and out with their horses, but they took a pass, swinging their arakhs and then continued into their section of the city. Jon turned to the Reach and Dornish. “The Unsullied have this, let’s get moving toward Flea Bottom.” There was a lot of nodding in agreement and one of the Reach men who had spent some time in King’s Landing maneuvered his horse to lead the way.

***

Jon had seen King’s Landing from the air, but the experience was completely different on the ground. The most buildings Jon had ever seen in one place up until the last few months had been White Harbor, which despite being the largest city in the North now seemed like a small fishing village in comparison. The buildings here were not low to the ground as they were in the North to conserve heat. Here they were built up several stories with open windows and light brick. Even though he had been here once before with Davos, it was still awe inspiring to a man who had never spent any time in cities. He briefly wondered if that would have been different if his parents had survived.

The city was eerily silent as they rode through the streets picking their way to the still burning Flea Bottom. Occasionally Jon saw shadows of people inside their homes, eyes watching as their army made its way through. None of them stopped, none of them looted. That wasn’t what they were there for and Jon wouldn’t have tolerated it from any of them. As they moved further into the city, people became braver and peaked their heads out the windows, watching as the parade of horsemen picked their way through the streets. They rode respectively through the streets, not disturbing anything.

“They’re all children.” Horas Redwyne said softly. “Where are all the adults?”

Jon took a closer look at the people in the windows and sure enough only young ones looked back. Ranging in ages, the oldest Jon saw couldn’t have been more than fifteen. Jon turned around and looked at his men. “Stay on alert, the adults are missing, we may be facing an ambush!”

“No!” A scream came from one of the nearby buildings and a girl of about twelve stuck her head out the window. The army all turned to look at her. “They all went to help with the fires!” She pointed her finger in the direction they were traveling, toward Flea Bottom. “They’re not going to attack you! They just told us all to stay inside. My papa is a leader here and he said if they didn’t help, the fire would spread.”

“He also said that even though they live in Flea Bottom, they don’t deserve to die like that.” Came a second voice and a boy’s head popped out of the window next to his sister.

Jon exchanged a long look with his fellow commanders. The children could be telling the truth, or they could be headed into a trap. “What’s your father’s name?” Jon called up at the two children.

“Sterlan Wagstaff.” The girl called down.

“Where’s your mother?” Redwyne asked her.

“Dead.” The girl answered, “Two years now, but miss Clara takes care of us sometimes. I’m worried for her, she works in Flea Bottom.”

Jon perked up and looked up at her. “Clara from the brothel?”

“Papa says she’s not a whore anymore, she just runs the place.” The girl shouted back.

“I know.” Jon said with a chuckle. “I’ve met her, she’s a friend of mine. Thank you for the help!”

The children nodded and Jon urged his horse forward. As they rode, he turned to Horas. “Make sure the men stay on alert. I believe the children, but I don’t want to get caught unaware.” The Reach knight nodded to him and sent the command quietly down the line of men on horseback.

The streets became narrower and one of the men commented that they were getting close to Flea Bottom. Where the city had been silent and continued to be behind them, in front of them there was an obvious commotion occurring. The army moved into what was a large city square where on the opposite side was an obvious switch from the carefully placed buildings behind them to the narrow streets and uneven rooftops of the slums of King’s Landing. Just beyond the first row of buildings Jon could see that fire was still burning in this sector of the city. Men, women, and children were trying to escape it but a line of Lannister soldiers held them back toward the hellish inferno. The people trying to escape were covered in ash and embers and most of them had burns or singed clothing. They weren’t the only ones pushing at the armor-clad men.

A large group of unaffected citizens most likely led by the children’s father were pushing another line of Lannister men that were keeping them from entering Flea Bottom. He could hear them shouting to be let through to help them. They kept shoving and Jon got the sense that this was about to escalate. His instincts became true when the Lannister soldiers drew their swords against the citizens just trying to help. “Stay back!” One of the commanders shouted. “Just go home!”

“And leave them in there?” A man replied outraged. “They need help, and the fire is spreading.”

Jon looked up to see the burning embers flying up in the sky. The man was right, the fire would continue to spread unless it was contained. He signaled his men to fan out behind him, the cavalry creating a line that spread further than the Lannister forces. From the distance Jon could see that the Lannister commander had finally noticed Jon and his men. The look of horror on his face was plain. After a few minutes the entire Lannister group that was facing away from Flea Bottom were staring straight at the men and horses facing them. Then the citizens realized what was happening. They turned and screamed as they realized they were about to be caught in the middle of a battle.

Jon wasn’t sure what happened first, but there was a scream of agony further down the line to his right. The Lannister men were starting to cut down the smallfolk in an effort to get a clear shot at the approaching army. Jon turned in horror to his men. “Move! Give them room to get behind you!” He commanded loudly. His men inched their horses closer together, crammed up next to each other to give the people large spaces to run through. Jon turned toward the smallfolk who were confused as to where to go. It was chaos. The Lannisters were hacking into them and on the other side they were faced with Jon’s intimidating group of men. There was nothing to do but scream at them.

“MOVE!! GET BEHIND US!” Jon screamed across the square. His men joined in.

“HURRY!”

“WE’RE HERE TO HELP YOU!”

Cries echoed down the line of men and finally the citizens of King’s Landing took their chances with the men not pointing swords at them. They started to run for the army. Jon kept a tight rein on his horse lest he be scared of the oncoming people. He could hear a few spooked horses along the line. The men and women moved through the large spaces left for them and retreated behind the horses. Jon knew they couldn’t charge the Lannister men while they were still back-to-back and the people from Flea Bottom were still behind them. He needed to draw the soldiers into the middle of the space.

Jon rode forward slightly, just ahead of his men. “Lannisters, Men of the West. You have been cowardly and cruel. You follow the orders of a queen who would burn innocent people alive. Come and face your enemies. Stop using women and children as your shields. You are men without honor, and we will gladly give you peace.”

He could see the warring emotions in the men opposite him. Shame, anger, and fear shone on most of their faces. He could see the commander who had first pulled out his sword on the unarmed people in front of him and his shoulders set in resolution. He led his men forward into the square. It was all the space Jon needed. He signaled his men, and they rode into the Lannister forces. They didn’t need more than one pass to take the first line, and Jon felt satisfaction as he cut into the Lannister commander. Jumping down from his horse, Jon moved to the second line of Lannisters, the ones holding the burning smallfolk back. He ran his sword through two of them before they finally turned to engage him. At all sides, his men had also abandoned their horses to meet the soldiers face to face. In the chaos the victims from Flea Bottom fled toward the other side of the square where the smallfolk who had been fighting to get to them caught them up.

The battle was over in a matter of minutes. The Lannister forces down. None had surrendered to them, not that Jon would’ve accepted it anyway. There was no honor in what these men were doing. Nothing redeemable. He stood looking at the blackened slums of the city. The fires were still burning, and he could see people moving down the narrow street. He turned to give orders before entering the landscape.

Jon walked across the square, back toward where they came from. He saw the man that had been yelling at the Lannister commander. “Sterlan Wagstaff?” he asked.

The man looked at him wide eyed. “Yes. But how did you know that?”

Jon nodded back through the street toward the man’s home. “Your children. We were preparing for an ambush when they told us where all the adults had gone.”

The man grinned and reached back to rub the back of his neck. He was a kind-looking man, with grey hair peeking through the light brown and his brown eyes surrounded by laugh lines. “They’re a handful, those two. Always gotta be in the center of everything.”

“Sounds like they get that from you.” Jon replied with a smile. “Do you know who I am?”

The man nodded. “Jon Targaryen, right? King in the North, and soon to be married to the Dragon Queen? Clara’s been spreading the rumors amongst us. I understand she’s been working for you. Sending you information so you could take the city easier with your dragons.” Just then they heard the roar of the dragons in the direction of the Red Keep. Jon watched as the man winced at the sound.

“They’re not here to hurt you.” Jon said. “They’re here to stop Cersei Lannister from doing things like this.” He waved his hand to encompass the square and burning city.

“Things like this always happen to people like us. No matter who is on the throne.” Sterlan replied.

Jon nodded slowly. “I understand that’s been your experience, but it won’t happen with Daenerys as your queen.”

“The daughter of the Mad King?” Sterlan asked speculatively.

“The ruler who sent her men in here to save the city rather than march directly to the Red Keep.” Jon answered sternly. “Now, are you something of a leader to these people? Someone people will listen to?” Sterlan nodded reluctantly in return. “Then I need your help. We need to set up areas for the injured and I need anyone who can carry water into this area to form a line with my men so we can start dousing the flames. We don’t have long before it spreads into the rest of the city.”

“You don’t expect me to bend the knee first?” Sterlan asked, surprised.

“There will be time for bowing later. Right now, we have people to save.” Jon said impatiently. “Have you seen any men from the Reach that didn’t enter with me? Or Clara?”

Sterlan looked miserable at the mention of Clara. “I haven’t seen any other soldiers. Clara should’ve been on her way to my place when the wildfire exploded. She was holding a meeting tonight about helping you and your queen when you came into the city. She was so vehemently against Cersei, but most people here were scared to back anyone else. You see why.” Sterlan said gesturing toward Flea Bottom. “When the Sept exploded, it was mostly the nobles that suffered. Most of the common folk weren’t allowed in for the trial anyway. But that day we all learned that if she could do that to them, there was a good chance she could do it to any of us. You won’t find much love for Cersei Lannister in this city, but you’ll also have to earn our trust if you want it.”

Jon nodded. “Let’s start with saving the city first. Get the line started.”

Jon stepped into line with his men and helped pass buckets of water back and forth. He wasn’t sure where the water was coming from, but he watched as soldiers and commonfolk worked together to try and stop the blaze from spreading. It was long and tiring work. After a while the fire that immediately threatened to spread to the other parts of the city were finally out. Everyone looked exhausted, but there was still work to do. Jon instructed several men to stay behind and continue to help, but he continued into the burned sector of the city, searching for survivors. He needed to see if their Reach men had possibly survived.

He signaled to his men and they gathered up their weapons and secured the horses in the square. He saw many of them take deep breaths for courage before squaring their shoulders and coming into formation. Jon turned to say farewells to Sterlan. “We’re going in. We need to find out if my men survived and we’ll send any other survivors your way. Can you handle things here?”

The man nodded. “Thank you, Your Grace. We wouldn’t have been able to stop the fire without you and your men.” He paused for a long moment. “If you find Clara...if she’s alive, will you make sure she gets back here?”

Jon nodded at the man and gave him a sympathetic smile. He turned and stepped into the first street leading into Flea Bottom.

It was like descending into night from day. King’s Landing and Flea Bottom were always characterized by light brick buildings so that even though the streets were close together, the city was never really dark. In the aftermath of wildfire though, the buildings were scorched black and covered in debris and ash. The scent of smoke filled Jon’s lungs as he walked forward. “How could anyone survive this?” Asked Ser Horas. Jon just shook his head at the knight. He didn’t understand either how someone could live through this. As they walked forward, they saw scorched skeletons lining the road. The wildfire had burned through all flesh to leave only the bones behind. Jaws were hinged open as if the people screamed in their last moments. 

They walked through the debris for a long time with no signs of life, it seemed like anyone who had survived had already made it to the square. All of the men with him were somber and silent. Even the Dornish were quiet as they looked at the horror scene surrounding them. Wind whistled through the streets, that and the echoes of their boots crunching on the burned ground were the only sounds to be heard. They stayed to the sides of the street as the middle looked like it had blown upward. Obviously, the wildfire had come from below. Jon shook his head at the cruelty of Cersei Lannister. She had attacked the most vulnerable, the ones who stood no chance of surviving.

A groan sounded to their left. All of the men grabbed the hilts of the swords as a woman came into view. Her brown hair had been singed at the ends and the rest was matted to her face. He could see a nasty burn running up her left arm and the dress she wore was hanging on by literal threads. He watched as she climbed over the debris out of a collapsed building. Blood ran from her hairline, but her face was clear. It was Clara. She looked at him with confusion. “Your Grace?” She asked. He immediately leapt forward and helped her exit the building. “Clara. How did you survive?” He asked.

“I was already leaving Flea Bottom, on my way to a friend’s home when the wildfire went up.” She explained, the pain clear in her tone of voice. “We had just received word from one of our Keep contacts that Cersei knew we were feeding her information. I knew there was a good chance she’d try something like this, but she must have already had it in place to do it this fast. I got blown into this shop and then it collapsed on top of me. I’ve been digging my way out for hours.”

Jon inspected her carefully. “We need to get you to the square just beyond those buildings, there are people waiting to help survivors.” She nodded. “Clara, did you see any Reach men today? Before the wildfire?”

Clara again nodded, but this time reluctantly. “We were hiding them in one of the taverns. I think they were supposed to start things from in here, right?” Jon nodded. “I’m sorry, Your Grace, but I don’t know what happened to them. The tavern is two more streets up and nearer to the original blast. It’s called the Bronze Buckle.”

Jon could tell Clara was having a hard time keeping herself upright. He helped move her toward one of his men. “Take her to the square, the man called Sterlan will be looking for her.” She turned her head sharply to look at him. He just shrugged. “Pure coincidence.”

She nodded and sent him a small smile. “Thank you. If you get a chance will you check on my girls? I think the brothel is probably gone, but maybe some of them got out.”

“I’ll do my best. Get yourself some help, and rest.” Jon said, returning the smile.

They continued up the streets, finding survivors in similar conditions to Clara, but by the time they got to the second street, there was nothing but silence. They passed Clara’s brothel, but sure enough the entire structure had collapsed. They called for survivors for a while but when no one answered they were forced to move on. Jon took a deep breath as they saw the sign for the tavern swinging in the wind, the creaking echoing off the walls around him. The entire building that had been the Bronze Buckle Tavern had collapsed; the windows blown out. All of them took a moment and bowed their heads a moment of silence for their fallen.

“Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to help us get out?” Came a weak but gruff voice through one of the upper story windows. Out of the darkened space emerged a face heavily bruised and covered in blood. It was Ser Gareth Fossoway, the knight that led the group of men into the capital. The young knight had taken a liking to Jon and usually followed him anywhere. He and Ser Horas had an amusing rapport most of the time, but now it was brotherly affection that spurred the Redwyne knight to quickly climb closer to the building to pull Ser Gareth out.

They pulled him and six more men from the remnants of the building. All seven men had sustained serious injuries. Jon wasn’t sure how any of them were standing. They all looked worse for the wear. “Ser Gareth, what about the rest of the men?” Ser Horas asked.

Ser Gareth just shook his head slowly, tears forming in his eyes. “We had all gone upstairs to rest, the rest of them were down mingling with people and drinking a few. When the city blew and the building collapsed, we were all knocked out for a while. When I came to, we spent a long time trying to contact any of them who had been below us. When we finally got through to the bottom level, we discovered that everyone had been burned. The wildfire had come into the building and killed them all. We’re all that’s left.”

Jon patted the young knight on the shoulder sympathetically. “Alright, well we need to get to the Keep. We’ve taken out the Lannister forces in this sector of the city and the rescue and cleanup is underway. Do you want to go back to the people who are getting help and cleaned up or come with us?”

Fossoway looked around at his men. “They should go back, most of them need the assistance, but I’d like to come with you if possible.”

Jon looked at him for a long moment. “We’re going into battle for the Keep. If you can’t keep up, you shouldn’t come.”

The young knight squared his shoulders and looked him in the eye. “Someone needs to represent the people she killed here today, Your Grace. I can make it.” Jon just nodded and offered a smile. One of the men that had been with them the whole time volunteered to take Fossoway’s men back to the square and safety. A Reach soldier stepped forward and wrapped a cloth around Gareth’s head and wiped at the blood and ash on his face.

Jon, Ser Horas, Ser Gareth, and the rest of the Reach and Dornish men made their way through the rest of the remnants of Flea Bottom. They didn’t hear any more survivors along the way. When they neared the other side of the neighborhood and could see unscathed buildings up ahead they heard people shouting into the ruin. They walked toward the voices which it turned out belonged to servants employed at the Red Keep. They were searching for family and friends. Most of them stopped shouting as they saw Jon walk through the rubble.

“Any survivors are on the other side of Flea Bottom, receiving care and attention in the square between it and the next neighborhood. All rescue efforts are being coordinated there.” Jon said to them.

“The Dragon Queen has the Keep. Although Cersei and her close advisors are still holed up inside. When Rennifer realized what was happening, he sealed nearly every entrance to the lower caves. He’s the one that knows the castle the best. He’s the chief jailer.” The young maid speaking to him pointed toward an older blond man who wore the under gambeson of Lannister armor.

The man, Rennifer, shrugged and looked at Jon. “It’s my honor to serve House Targaryen and I just couldn’t do it anymore. She’s too awful. I did what I could to make sure you could get to her. Just be careful of the Mountain. He was scary alive, undead, he’s an unstoppable machine.”

Jon nodded at him gratefully. The people started moving around Jon’s forces and in through Flea Bottom, still calling for loved ones. Jon sincerely hoped they found who they were looking for. As they neared the Red Keep Jon could hear the sounds of the Unsullied and Dothraki. Obviously the two groups had made it through the city before they did, not really surprising. What was surprising was seeing his betrothed sitting atop her dragon at the entrance to the castle. On the partially blown out walls behind her sat Rhaegal and Viserion. Jon was happy to see none of the dragons had sustained any injuries. He walked forward to greet her as his men kept a more acceptable distance from the three beasts.

He reached up to help her down and reported on his experiences in the city. “The city surrendered. The common people are being cared for. Our men are putting out fires and evacuating people, finding safe places for them. We took some losses. The Lannisters started attacking citizens and using them as shields, but we did our best to keep them safe.” Jon still couldn’t believe the behavior he had witnessed in the square between the commonfolk and the Lannister army. “All that is left now is the Keep.”

Dany nodded at him, her hair was windswept, and her face was red from the cooler air. “I think most of the common people have evacuated by now. All that should be left are Cersei, Jaime, and the other main targets.” They both turned and looked up at the huge red castle. “Let’s take our home back.” She said with determination, and Jon shivered at the implication that they were about to take back their ancestral castle.

***

The Red Keep was much taller than Winterfell, but even from this point Jon could see that the entire complex itself was smaller than the castle he grew up in. Daenerys pointed out the various points in the castle as they walked across the courtyard. Behind them were Greyworm, Qhono, and Jorah who had rode in with the Dothraki.

“Of course, a large part of the castle is actually underground in secret tunnels and caves.” Dany continued as she talked about the history of the Red Keep. It was obvious that she had done her work in learning about the place she meant to live in. “There’s a good chance they could attempt to escape that way. Although there won’t be any ships waiting for them down below.” She sent him a wicked smile at that comment.

“We actually ran into a group of servants fleeing the Keep on our way here and one of them confessed to closing most of the escapes down to the lower levels. He said it was possible he didn’t get all of them, but we should find it easier to actually capture who we want to.” Jon said to her.

Dany turned to him wide-eyed. “Using this network that Sansa infiltrated might be the best thing we could’ve done in preparation for taking the city.” She said.

Jon nodded but added. “He said that he was just tired of serving her. Cersei’s downfall is more than just us, it’s her own cruelty. Sansa’s network might also be the reason she released wildfire on Flea Bottom.” Jon said. “We ran into Clara who said that Cersei found out that castle servants were feeding information to us and they expected some kind of retaliation. She just didn’t know how she found out about it.”

Dany looked guilty for a long moment. She turned to their men and gave the order to search ahead, but to not engage. Jorah looked like he was about to object leaving her, but she gave him a stern look. He backed off quickly and followed the men inside the building on the other side of the courtyard. “Right before everything started, I was speaking to Tyrion alone.”

Jon nodded. “I remember. He was confessing how he was trying to save his brother, correct?” Dany licked her lips nervously and her eyes darted around the space. “Dany, you might as well just tell me.” Jon said. “I’ll imagine worse if you don’t.”

She finally nodded and spoke. “He confessed that he relayed more information to Jaime than he should have.” She spoke quickly and nervously.

“What does that mean?” Jon asked.

“He told Jaime that there were people feeding us intelligence from inside the Keep, along with telling him how large our armies were.” Dany looked down guiltily.

Jon froze. “Did he explain why he did that?”

“He said it was an attempt to convince them to surrender.” Dany said, blowing out a large breath.

“Dany…” Jon started.

“I know. I know Jon. I do.” Dany said quickly. “I just don’t know what to believe with him. It’s hard to believe anyone could be that stupid, but then I’ve done stupid things for my family. Haven’t you for yours?”

“Dany it doesn’t matter what his motivation was. If we leave him in his position any longer, he’ll likely get us all killed.” Jon said. “And if this ever comes out and we haven’t punished him, there'll be a revolt on our hands. He might be single handedly responsible for what happened in Flea Bottom. It’s a nightmare down there. One of the worst things I’ve ever seen.”

“I know.” She looked up and met his eyes. “I know, Jon. But he’s my Hand, and I need to handle it.”

He just shook his head slowly at her. “Dany, I don’t want to interfere in your business, but you know that this was treason. I’m not comfortable with him remaining alive, let alone as your Hand. He’s just proving my opinion correct.” She moved to speak, but he continued. “I’m not going to tell you what to do, but I can’t support him in any way after what I’ve seen today.” She nodded at him with a solemn look on her face.

They both turned at a shout from inside the castle. Jon looked at her quickly. “Stay behind me, and we’ll finish this conversation later.”

They raced into the castle, Jon with his sword drawn at the sounds of the battle up ahead. They climbed several flights of stairs, Jon in full battle mode when they finally rejoined their men. In the large hallway next to an open courtyard their men were fighting a small band of remaining Lannister men. Horas Redwyne and Jorah Mormont were fighting together on one side, both of them scoring hits on the young Lannister men they were fighting. Qhono and Greyworm were on the other side, each taking turns hitting their opponents with their weapons. Jon was distracted from the fighting when at the end of the hallway a large figure came clunking into view.

The Mountain was an abomination. Jon could see his glowing red eyes from where he stood, the skin appearing purple under his helmet. The man moved with slow clambering movements down the passage. Jon moved to engage the giant man. He heard Dany whisper a warning behind him as he went to meet the man face to face. He held his sword out in front of him. Fighting this man with a sword would be stupid, so there was only one option left for Jon. He sent a quick thought up to the sky and then dodged quickly out of the way as the man reached for him and stumbled into the courtyard next to the hallway. The undead man looked ahead to Daenerys and Jon nearly panicked.

He threw his dagger at the man, but it just clanged off his helmet. The move did the trick though, and the Mountain abandoned Dany and turned back toward him. Grunting, he moved into the courtyard toward Jon. At that moment Jon uttered one word. “Dracarys.” From above, a waiting Rhaegal spurted fire down on the huge man. He continued through the waving movements of the man’s arms. He was weirdly silent even while being burned to ash. Finally, Rhaegal relented and all the people standing in the hallway looked at the pile of ash and metal that had once been the Mountain.

“Well, that works.” Horas Redwyne said.

“Bit of a dodge.” Said Jorah sneeringly.

Redwyne just shrugged. “If I had to fight that thing and I had a dragon, I’d do the same thing.”

Neither Qhono nor Greyworm commented, both simply nodded at Jon. The party continued to move through the castle which was quiet. It seemed as if all the servants had abandoned their posts in the face of the Targaryen armies. Those were the last Lannister soldiers they ran into until they were standing at the entrance to the Great Hall. The soldiers there surrendered immediately, they laid their weapons down at their feet and Jon and Dany gave the order to have them stay under watch. Jorah and Greyworm pushed open the doors to the Great Hall after they had the soldiers squared away. The sight before them might have been the most shocking one of the day.

Inside the Great Hall, on the opposite wall of the doors they’d just entered through stood the Iron Throne. The spikes of the chair stood out in all directions and it stood proudly on a round dais under a series of stained-glass windows. It was the occupants of the chair that truly gained their attention though. Upon the dark spiky throne sat Jaime Lannister with a dead Cersei Lannister spread across his lap. He looked up at them as they approached with tear filled eyes. His cheeks stained red with the series of tears he’d already shed. He hiccupped as he tried to speak. “She was going to do it to the whole city. I couldn’t let her. I couldn’t…” Jaime trailed off as he looked down at his sister.

Jon looked at him feeling something close to sympathy for the man. He moved closer to the twins. “Ser Jaime. You know we have to take you to a cell.”

The blond man nodded. He looked up and met Dany’s eyes. “Burn her please. I know you have every right to put her head up on one of those stakes, and maybe she deserves it, but please don’t let it end for her like that.” Dany just watched Jaime, giving him no indication of whether or not she would honor his request. Jaime slowly put Cersei’s body on the floor before the throne. “She was carrying my child. I wanted to save the baby, but I couldn’t let her continue. Qyburn is dead in the Tower of the Hand, he’s the one who told me her plan.” Horas and Jorah came forward and pulled Jaime away by his upper arms.

Jon wouldn’t have imagined this as the final showdown between the Lannisters and the Targaryens. Lions simpering in front of dragons after they’d killed their own. Victory was at hand and he couldn’t help but feel grateful to the former Kingsguard who had chosen innocent people over his demented twin.

Jon sighed as he looked down at the dead body of Cersei Lannister and then looked up at Daenerys. She took his hand and they stood there for a long time staring at the goal she had worked so hard for. Neither one of them made a move toward the throne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're looking for something fluffy, smutty, and sexy to read today, I am also posting a modern AU Jonerys oneshot with a Valentine's Day spin. It's called Chocolate Dreams and Coffee Mornings.
> 
> See ya Wednesday!!


	22. Daenerys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dany and Jon get used to life in the Red Keep. Secrets are revealed. The Great War begins on the Northern border.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Lovelies!!
> 
> Can you believe how close we are to the end of this saga? Me neither. Two more chapters after this one and then an epilogue. Crazy!
> 
> This chapter is very transitional. Things happen, but not too much action. (We will get to the big action starting next chapter.)
> 
> Thank you to AbstractlySydney. You're the best.
> 
> Also I appreciate all your guys's comments and kudos. They mean the world to me.

Dany blinked awake in the early morning light streaming through the window. She smiled as she felt the soft puffs of air on the back of her neck and the hard arm wrapped around her waist. She was completely wrapped up in her betrothed. Jon’s thigh was between hers, and the arm that wasn’t around her waist acted as a pillow beneath her head. Dany laid there for a long moment reveling in the peace she felt lying in the King’s chambers of the Red Keep. After the last few months of flying across Westeros and doing battle on the land, sea, and air it felt sumptuous to stay in bed with her lover for long mornings. In the near month since the battle for King’s Landing, they had found themselves in this position often as a result of long nights of lovemaking.

She was happy to feel him still sleeping behind her. More and more commonly Jon woke with a start, sweat pouring down his body and gasping for air. The dreams and visions of the coming Great War were weighing on her love. He said he felt an impending dread nearly every time he dreamed. The feeling of looming danger was growing in Dany as well. For the last week or two she had been feeling nauseous the tension ratcheting up as they neared their departure for Winterfell. She sighed back into her pillow as they both had slept soundly that night.

She could feel Jon’s breathing change as he awoke for the day. His lips found the side of her neck and kissed up and down her throat. Dany sighed into the affection and stretched her neck to give him even more room to caress. Jon chuckled and slowly turned her over, so she was on her back, facing up at him. “Good morning, my queen.” He smiled down at her, his hair unbound and arranged wildly around his head. She reached for him, pulling him down to her and kissed him softly and slowly. “Good morning.” She said as she pulled away. He leaned forward so that their foreheads were pressed together. They lay there for a long moment just breathing together.

Jon moved his hands up the inside of her thighs and slowly moved them apart. She acquiesced and spread her legs wide enough for him to settle between them. Jon kept eye contact with her as he reached one hand down to caress her already damp folds. “Wet for me already, Dany?” He smirked. “Always for you.” She returned and the fire lit in his eyes at her response. He leaned down to kiss her again but this time the kiss was less sweet and more needy. Their tongues tangled together, tasting every corner of each other’s mouths. Jon bit down on her lower lip and she gasped, squirming beneath him. She wrapped her legs around his waist fully and met his eyes. “Take me Jon.” She whispered at him.

He nearly growled as he took himself in hand and pressed at her entrance. She dug her nails into his back and hung on for the ride. Every one of her actions seemed to spur him on. He thrust fully into her in one smooth move. They had their rhythm down by now after months of being lovers, but Dany was always happily surprised by how full she felt with him seated inside her. Jon set a brutal pace but rather than being intimidated she pushed back at him just as hard. He grabbed one of her thighs for leverage as he continued to pound into her, the slaps of their bodies echoing through the bedchamber. Her moans grew in volume as he reached his free hand down to her bundle of nerves, rubbing her to release. She shouted as she came, her nails digging deep into Jon’s back and followed her with a groan. She could feel his seed release inside her as it did every time they made love.

Jon winced as he pulled back from her and then collapsed on the bed beside her. She laughed at his concerned face as he reached around to his back. “Did I get you with my claws?” She joked. He just looked back over at her and leaned in for a quick kiss. “The consequence of laying with a dragon, I suppose.” He said back with a smile. “I like wearing your marks. Not that anyone sees them, but I like being claimed by you.”

She smiled at him. “I do claim you. You’re mine, my future husband, my king. It’s you and me, always.” He gave her a soft smile in return and pulled her close. They cuddled for a long while, naked beneath the sheets before there was a knock on the door. “Your Graces. Your presence is requested for the day.” Missandei’s voice cut through the room. The young woman had learned in the last few weeks not to enter the bedchamber without knocking lest she wanted to see way more of the king and queen that she cared to.

Daenerys wasn’t embarrassed by the amount of time she spent abed with Jon. She felt a sense of almost desperation with him when they were together. She knew he still had a war to fight up North and it was only a matter of time before they needed to head to Winterfell. Already most of the Dothraki and Unsullied were on their way north. Jon and Dany had decided they would fly up on their dragons. She also felt a never-ending desire to claim him, to make sure he knew who he belonged to. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him, but they were faced with so many pressures day to day that she wanted him to know how she felt.

Jon groaned as he sat up in the bed. He reached over and grabbed her hand, kissing the back of it as he stood to clean himself and dress quickly. There had been no coronation yet, neither one of them were officially the King and Queen but they were the acknowledged rulers and there was a lot of demand for their attention every day. He dressed in the black gambeson that was embossed with dragon scales and pulled his sword belt around his waist. For the daily life inside the Red Keep he’d taken to only wearing Longclaw around, his second sword, still unnamed, remained with his suit of armor, only to be worn for battle. With one last look back at her and a smile, he exited their bedchambers to begin his daily duties.

Once he was gone, Dany stood slowly following his example by cleaning herself before Missandei entered. Dany sat at a chair in her bedchamber breaking her fast with Missy braiding her hair as she filled Dany in on the happenings around the Keep. After the battle, Jaime Lannister had been taken to the cells along with any Lannister soldier who refused to yield. There weren’t very many after the battle concluded. Cersei had been burned with dragon fire in the main courtyard with the smallfolk as witnesses. Daenerys really didn’t want any piece of her to survive, and did not want to watch her head rot on a stake. She and Jon had expressed their deepest sympathies for the tragedy of Flea Bottom and promised to help rebuild. The Reach and Dornish men had stepped up to help plan the rebuild once the area was cleared, a process that was nearing its end now. In the meantime, Jon and Dany had invited the smallfolk to take up residence in the Keep until housing was available for them. It led to quite the interesting daily reports from Missy who entertained her with tales of the families living under her roof.

Over the past few weeks, Dany and Jon had gotten to know many of the people who called King’s Landing home. Dany had finally met their informant Clara and had learned for herself that Cersei blew up Flea Bottom after learning about the spy ring. She held Tyrion responsible and he had been stripped of his title as Hand of the Queen. He was currently sequestered in his chambers, but mainly because none of them had decided what to do with him just yet. No one besides their closest advisors knew that his writing to Jaime had initiated the attack on Flea Bottom. There was also the matter of the vacant position of Hand of the Queen. They were gearing up to go to Winterfell for an indeterminate amount of time and Dany wanted to leave someone she trusted behind. Jon got regular updates from Davos, Robb, and Sansa from up North, but there was no one either of them trusted implicitly in the Red Keep.

Dany laughed at the newest development surrounding a group of children that had lost their parents in the wildfire disaster. Apparently, the small gang of about ten children had taken to sneaking around the lower levels of the Keep and the rumored secret passageways. Princess Arianne had found them in the walls of her bedchamber. She had walked them down to the Great Hall, holding one of the boys by his ear until she found Clara, who had taken responsibility for the children. “Perhaps they just need a job. Maybe we could have the children map out the secret passages in the Keep?” She looked up at Missy. Missandei nodded and smiled gently. “I think that’s a good idea, Your Grace. You might also think about where to house them when the families head back into the city. We’ll need an orphanage or two.”

Dany sighed as she thought about the children. “Maybe one of them might just be worthy of being adopted into House Targaryen.” Missandei looked as if her eyes were about to pop out of their sockets. “Tyrion was a fool in so many ways, but he was right to suggest that I need to find a way to claim an heir, especially since I’m going to marry my original choice.”

“Your Grace, forgive me, I haven’t said anything because I figured you might have noticed but are keeping the knowledge to yourself.” Missy said hesitantly.

“What knowledge? What are you talking about?” Dany returned.

“Your Grace, we’ve had to let out several of your dresses. Your bust is tight, and you complain of discomfort. You’ve been nauseous so the Dothraki midwives suggested some different fares for your meals.” Missy indicated the platter before her. Long gone were the fried eggs that had been present when she first arrived in Westeros, now she ate stale bread and dried fruits. “Your Grace, you’re pregnant. Most likely for at least a moon by now, maybe even two.”

A month or two. Dany thought back to what had happened over that time. It would have been right after the battle with Euron, the volcanic eruption and the long days of lovemaking with her and Jon since they couldn’t go anywhere. It struck her suddenly why everyone’s account of the event had bothered her. Every part of the witch’s curse had been fulfilled during the volcanic eruption. She turned to look at Missy. “I’m with child.” Missandei nodded. “I believe so, yes. But you should have a maester confirm it.”

A part of her wanted to run off and tell Jon immediately, but she knew she needed confirmation first. She looked up at Missy with tears in her eyes. “Send for Sam.” Jon had wanted him at the Red keep as already two maesters served Dragonstone. Missy smiled and nodded. Dany continued to dress, but in a daze. She couldn’t believe it was happening, but then again if anyone were to get her pregnant it would be her long-lost Targaryen love. Perhaps this was what all the dreams of him were trying to lead her toward. “Not a word to anyone Missy until we know for sure.”

Dany sat anxiously in her solar awaiting Sam’s arrival. The young man wasn’t officially a maester but both she and Jon trusted him more than any other they’d met. He was a kind man with a thirst for knowledge and was extremely loyal to Jon, and by extension her. She thought they might have had a strenuous relationship as she was responsible for his father’s death, but Sam took it all in stride. He arrived after what felt like hours with his wife Gilly in tow. The two had married in a sept just a few weeks earlier. Missy also reentered the room, closing the door firmly behind her. “Good morning, Your Grace.” The young man said with a wide smile. “What can I do for you?”

“Sam, I have a delicate matter I need to discuss with you.” Dany began, suddenly extremely nervous. Could she and Missy have mistaken all of the signs? She didn’t know if she’d survive the heartbreak if the outcome wasn’t what she wanted.

“Is it about your pregnancy?” Sam asked.

Dany looked at him shocked. She looked at Missy who was returning her gaze in a panic. The young woman shook her head quickly, indicating that she had not told the man anything. She looked back at Sam who was starting to look anxious himself. “How…how do you know?”

“I’m sorry, Your Grace, but I thought it was rather obvious.” Sam shrugged quickly, his nervous chuckles filling the room. “Jon has mentioned that you’ve been nauseous, and Gilly pointed out that you seem flushed more often. I’ve seen Missandei sit working on your dresses by the evening fires in the Keep. No one has told me anything directly, but I put the pieces together.”

“Better than I did, apparently.” Dany smiled tightly back at him. “I’ve only just come to the shocking conclusion myself, and I still can’t quite believe it.” She took a deep breath but looked at him suddenly, panic gripping her. “Does Jon know?”

Sam shook his head slowly. “If he does, he hasn’t said anything to me, Your Grace. Although, I don’t know how he can’t suspect, you two do a lot of…ah…”

Dany raised an eyebrow at him. “A lot of what, Sam?”

“You seem to have a very healthy…relationship, Your Grace.” Sam looked mortified as he stood before her. Dany took pity on him and looked to Gilly.

“Is he always this nervous?” She asked the man’s wife.

“You are particularly intimidating, Your Grace.” She responded sweetly.

Dany chuckled and turned back to the would-be maester. “I need it confirmed, Sam. I spent a long part of my life believing I would never carry or give birth to a living child. I need to know if that’s what’s happening or if all of this is wishful thinking.”

Sam suddenly got very serious. “Of course, Your Grace. Let’s begin, shall we?”

***

Dany couldn’t stop smiling as she moved around the Red Keep, making sure people were settled and that plans were being carried out properly. House Tyrell had arrived the day before and she’d yet to see Lady Olenna. It wouldn’t surprise her at all if the older woman was holed up in her rooms, refusing to be around the smallfolk. After a long day of dealing with the small fires to put out, Dany decided to have supper with the Tyrell matriarch. Jon was still working with the men to clear Flea Bottom and likely wouldn’t be back until dark.

The fare for supper was already laid out on the table in her solar when Olenna Tyrell entered her chambers. The older woman walked in slowly with her cane making soft noises on the floor. She was still dressed in her mourning black clothes as she moved into a curtsy in front of Dany. Daenerys waved her off immediately. “Please, Lady Olenna, the formality is wholly unnecessary tonight.” Olenna looked up with a grateful look and simply nodded her head to the queen. She moved to take her seat across from Daenerys.

“Congratulations on the seizure of King’s Landing, Your Grace.” Olenna began. “I never doubted you could do it, but I must say I’m impressed that you managed it with so little casualties. Much more honorable than Tywin’s sacking. Only the slums have burned.”

Dany cringed at the remark. “The destruction of Flea Bottom was entirely the work of Cersei Lannister, not me or my dragons.”

“And the scorch marks around the Red Keep?” Olenna asked.

“A necessary evil to eradicate all Lannister support.” Dany returned quickly. “I didn’t realize you would have a problem with any damage done to the Red Keep. It is after all, my family’s seat.”

“The Red Keep is a symbol to the world of the Iron Throne’s place of prominence in our kingdoms. It is far more than your family’s seat.” Olenna returned. “Unless you intend to rule the Seven Kingdoms from Dragonstone?”

Dany smiled at the woman, there was no preparation for the woman’s sharp tongue. “Jon and I will be ruling from the Red Keep. Although, Dragonstone will remain our family home, for the time being.”

“I would have thought he still considered Winterfell to be his family home.” The older woman stated. She finally picked up her utensils and started in on her meal. “Isn’t that why you’re leaving for the frozen North?”

“We’re going to the North because our wars are not yet concluded.” Dany said staunchly.

“Ahh, yes. The war against the walking dead men.” Olenna said. “What if this threat isn’t what His Grace says it is?”

“I don’t see the point in him lying about it now.” Daenerys responded, also starting her meal. “He’s the king of the Seven Kingdoms even if he hasn’t formally been crowned. He has all of the power of that title and he has a dragon that is primarily bonded to him. What would be the benefit of making up a war in the north now?”

“Your Grace, you just sent the bulk of your armies north to meet you at Winterfell and you’re preparing to leave King’s Landing for an indeterminate amount of time just barely after claiming it. You’re putting yourself in a very precarious position.” Olenna said matter of fact. “What if you don’t come back from the North?”

“That’s why I wanted to speak to you, Lady Olenna.” Dany said. “I have every intention of returning to King’s Landing and beating this threat beyond the Wall, but upon the event that we don’t succeed, I need a plan in place.”

Olenna looked up at the young monarch and narrowed her eyes. Dany got the impression she was being scanned by a keen eye. “If you don’t survive this conflict, then the impression I got is that the rest of the Kingdoms are doomed. Is that not the urgency His Grace puts around this war?”

Dany nodded. “I will admit, Lady Olenna, that I have not seen this army of the dead, but I have heard many accounts of them. I do believe that if they are not defeated in the North there will be nothing to stop them from coming south. Which means that all of the southern kingdoms must be prepared if we don’t come back.”

They sat for a moment in silence, both women eating their food and watching each other closely. Olenna seemed to be turning scenarios over in her head while Dany just watched her, waiting for what she had to say next. “Strategically, the best place to head them off would be the Trident. Especially if the Riverlands’ armies are already fighting in the North.”

Dany nodded. “I want the remaining armies moved there. They should head out before we leave. I know Jon has spoken to many of the men about the coming war and the enemy they would face on the battlefield.”

Olenna smirked. “He’s been so persuasive that even Willas has heard of these tales and believes them to be true. I asked him how he could believe such nonsense and he just responded that I had seen dragons and the Dothraki, but I’m questioning a dark force north of our strongest barrier ever erected? He’s been lost in books for most of his life, but I have to admit, his willingness to believe this story of your betrothed is troubling. Not to mention the songs the bards are already singing about the threat to the North.”

“Jon has a persuasive way about him when he speaks about the army of the dead. He believes in it without doubt.” Dany said. “At the beginning of our time together I was skeptical too, but getting to know him, I know he wouldn’t be asking us to go and fight there if we didn’t have to.”

“So, what will you do with King’s Landing?” Olenna asked. “You have a city that is being rebuilt, you’re sending all the armies away, you still have Jaime Lannister in a cell beneath this castle, and you no longer have a Hand.”

Dany nodded, taking a large gulp of wine. “The city is going to be fine. We have built relationships with some of the major leaders amongst the smallfolk, they know what our intentions are and we’re working with them to build the best version of this city for them. They’re the ones living in it, they need to tell us what they need.”

“And the debt the crown has acquired over the last two decades?” Olenna asked.

“It’s an excellent question.” Dany returned. “I don’t have all the answers yet. I’m hoping we can get all of the major lords together to find a finite solution, but I do know that we need to strong arm the Iron Bank. They decided to gamble with Cersei and back her with the Golden Company. No doubt their attack on Highgarden was in large part to take your wealth. We have some leverage with them because they inserted themselves into the affairs of the crown instead of staying neutral.”

Olenna nodded her approval. “So, the relationship you’re building with the people of King’s Landing will help with the rebuilding effort and most likely keep the peace to a large extent. What about the remaining Lannisters?”

Dany took a deep breath. It was time to make some uncomfortable decisions. “Jaime Lannister will be executed for his crimes against various families across Westeros. Lords Edmure Tully and Robb Stark have sent their witnesses of his behavior. Princess Arianne Martell has testified that he infiltrated Dorne with the intention to steal away Myrcella. On top of all of that, he cooperated with Cersei and all of her crimes. He’s too divisive a character to be left alive. He shows moments of morality, but they’re not enough to cover the heinous acts he performs.”

“And Tyrion?” Olenna asked seriously. “He’s no longer your Hand, so I assume he did something to fall out of favor.”

Dany nodded. “He did enough. It’s no longer possible for him to serve in that capacity.” She didn’t want anyone to know of Tyrion’s fumble leading to the disaster of Flea Bottom. If they did, there would be no saving him from death. “I was hoping, my lady, that you might be able to step into the role while I was gone.”

“You want me to serve as Hand of the Queen?” Olenna looked surprised.

“Don’t be so surprised, my lady.” Dany said with a smirk at finally besting the woman. “You have served Westeros for a long time. You have watched rulers and advisors for decades and you always seem to know what’s going on without the support of the current ruler. Imagine what you could do with my power actually backing you. You’re a strong and wise woman.”

“I’m an old woman.” She countered. “I may advise you wisely, but I will do so shortly.”

Dany shrugged. “Then train Willas to take over after you.” Olenna looked at her, intrigued. “Willas will never be a ruler, but he has all the potential to be a close advisor. He is well spoken and well liked. He seems to understand the world I want to build. He doesn’t judge the Dothraki, believes in Jon, and is always curious about everything. I know it is not the future you imagined for your grandson. I know you were hoping your family would end up in a greater position of power, but aside from being a Targaryen, it’s the most amount of power the Tyrells could wield.”

“We would be honored to serve you, Your Grace.” Olenna said with some emotion.

“Good.” Dany said bluntly. “Now let’s finish our meal and I’ll explain the future I see for Westeros.”

***

The next few days were full of preparation. Daenerys was happily surprised by how Olenna handled working with the smallfolk. Sterlan Wagstaff and Clara were the primary contacts for the people who lived in Flea Bottom and its close neighbors, and there were several wealthier merchants who represented the other parts of the city. Lord Staunton had come into the city for a day or two to plan for the upcoming battles representing the Crownlands. There were a few hold ups early on, especially between Olenna and Clara, but Clara could snap back as good as Olenna gave, and soon the two were thick as thieves. Dany was sure by the time she returned to King’s Landing there would be a whole council in place for the city.

Dany and Jon toured the ruins of Flea Bottom. They had torn down pretty much all of the remaining structures in the slums and were planning on building structures that had homes for all of the displaced residents and places for their businesses. Arianne had lent her expertise with the waterworks in Dorne and they had rerouted the waste coming from the Red Keep out of the city. Lady Olenna and the Knights of the Reach had pledged grain for the people so there would be stores for them at least through the next few months. The building would take nearly nine moons and Jon warned her that Flea Bottom would not be fully up and running for most likely a full year. They would finally have temporary housing up and ready in a few weeks on the other side of the Dragonpit so most of the common folk would move out from the Red Keep.

Jon and Sterlan seemed to be particularly close as they showed her what was going on in the city. Jon had explained to her that Sterlan was responsible for their smooth victory in the city. The man had a good handle on what was happening amongst the smallfolk, and people really listened to him. Jon said there was definitely something going on between him and Clara. Dany had laughed at his matchmaking scheme but had secretly started pestering Clara for her point of view. The woman at first claimed she had no time for romance, but as Jon encouraged Sterlan to pursue her, Dany could see the blushes Clara tried to hide. She had also witnessed Jon playing with Sterlan’s children on their tour of the city and it made her heart light. Even though she knew she was with child and Sam had confirmed it, she had yet to tell her king. It never seemed like the right time when they were rushing to finish their work in King’s Landing so they could go to Winterfell.

They were breaking their fast in their solar one morning when all attempts to delay their departure to Winterfell were dashed. “Your Grace,” a young servant greeted Jon. “A raven from Winterfell.” He brought the scroll to Jon who opened it and read the missive. She watched as his face went white and his hands started to shake. “What is it?” She asked urgently.

“The Others have breached the Wall at Eastwatch.” Jon said quickly. “The castle was barely manned, and ice had started to freeze over the water. A portion of the army overwhelmed the Night’s Watch through the tunnels and the rest walked around the Wall on the ice. The army of the dead is spreading across the North and it will be two weeks at most before they reach Winterfell.” He turned to look at her, panic entering his eyes. “It’s time for us to go.”

Dany wasn’t sure if she never really believed Jon or if she simply hoped it would never happen, but all of the sudden she was faced with the reality of the army of the dead. Things were going so well in King’s Landing, and had gone well so far in general. Despite losing the fleet, and the decimation of Flea Bottom, they hadn’t really faced anything they couldn’t defeat. The idea of an army full of dead men with nothing to stop them terrified her. Dany swallowed thickly and looked at her beloved, the father of the child she was growing, and her king. He had stood with her through everything over the last few months. He had been true to his word and helped her take back the Seven Kingdoms. He never overstepped or inserted himself where he didn’t need to be. He trusted her. Now she needed to return the favor. “Then let’s go.” She answered him.

No matter the amount of preparation in place for this expedition, there was a high level of anxiety as they finished off their daily duties. Together they called an impromptu small council meeting consisting of Olenna and Willas Tyrell, Sam, Arianne, Sers Fossoway and Redwyne, Missandei, Tyrion, and a man called Bronn. Bronn had been an interesting find. A former sellsword who worked for Jaime Lannister, Dany and Jon were weary to trust the man. Tyrion insisted that if you paid him, he’d follow you to the ends of the earth. Either way, the man was knowledgeable about King’s Landing and had a long history of combat. Neither of the knights were especially pleased to work with him, but Tyrion fought hard for his inclusion and Jon had decided that you always needed people on the seeder end of business.

Olenna and Willas had their orders to keep the peace and to allow the city building efforts to continue. Arianne would help reign in the court, the other nobles who were still in King’s Landing needed a distraction, and that was something the Dornish princess was particularly good at. Tyrion and Bronn were tasked with finding a solution to the crown’s debts, and the knights would serve as the commanders of any remaining soldiers in the city. As Dany looked around at the people gathered at the table, she was comfortable in the knowledge that the city would survive their absence. “Sam and Missandei. I realize this is a tall order, but we’d like for both of you to accompany us to Winterfell.” Missandei simply nodded and smiled, no doubt happy to stay with her best friend and queen but also because it would reunite her with Greyworm. Sam however, looked terrified.

“How are we going to get there, Your Grace?” He asked shakily. She looked at him squarely. “On dragons, of course.” That turned Sam’s face green and she was slightly afraid he might vomit at the table.

“We need any information you might have in real time in the North, Sam.” Jon explained. “You’ll be safe with us on the dragons.”

“The last order of business is Jaime Lannister.” Daenerys said in a firm voice. Tyrion blanched at the table. “He has been accused of many crimes against many families. Crimes worthy of death. At this point, I cannot continue many of my alliances if I don’t acquiesce on this issue.”

“Your Grace…” Tyrion tried to interject. Bronn subtly elbowed him in the stomach.

She held up her hand for silence. “Jaime Lannister will be put to death when we return from Winterfell. He will face his crimes in front of the families that accuse him. They will bear witness for the justice they feel they are owed. If we don’t return, he should face the same fate.” She looked to Olenna. “This is the will of the King and Queen.”

Olenna nodded solemnly. “We will await your return, Your Graces.”

“Then we leave the city and the southern kingdoms in your capable hands.” She said, looking all of them in the eye. “Know now that I do not suffer traitors. If I find that any of you have acted in an interest contrary to ours, I will kill you.”

They all nodded and met her eyes squarely. One by one they stood and pledged their loyalty to House Targaryen before leaving the room. The last to stand before them was Tyrion. “Lord Tyrion, I understand that this is difficult, but your brother chose his path.” Dany said.

“There has to be a way to spare him, Your Grace.” Tyrion returned.

“There’s not.” Jon said bluntly. “We’ve put this off for a long time to gather evidence and witness statements, but his time is up.” Silence reigned between the three of them as Dany sat next to Jon, never once questioning his words. Tyrion finally sighed and moved to leave the chamber. “And Tyrion, remember that should you try to save him, the people of King’s Landing will be informed as to why Flea Bottom was blown apart. There will be no saving you if that information comes to light.”

Dany shivered at Jon’s dark tone, but she understood and agreed with him completely. There would be no saving Tyrion unless he gave up on trying to save his brother. The short man left the room and then it was just her and Jon.

She turned to look at her betrothed. He returned her gaze. They sat for a long moment, just the two of them staring into each other’s eyes and stealing peace from the other’s presence. Jon leaned forward after a long time and took her mouth in a soft kiss. He picked her up from the waist and she wrapped her legs around him. He carried her through the keep to their chambers, kissing her the whole way. She wasn’t sure if anyone had seen them or if they were utterly alone. It was impossible to tell when she was wrapped up in Jon. They finally made it back to their bed where they spent the rest of the night making love.

***

The flight to Winterfell this time was just as long and probably more strenuous since they were both also travelling with a passenger. Missandei was an easy companion, the slight woman held onto Dany’s waist and moved with her and Drogon as they flew over Westeros. It didn’t seem as if Jon was having the same experience. Every time she looked over at Rhaegal, Sam was in a different position behind Jon and quite frequently at an odd angle. She could frequently hear the man yelling to Jon over the roar of the wind.

Early in the flight they had passed over the Reach and Dornish armies, now stationed at the Trident, the final line of defense for the southern kingdoms against the Others. She could see people of the Riverlands migrating to get behind the line of soldiers. They must have been under orders from their liege lord to get south. On the opposite side, she never saw anyone leaving the Vale. Most likely they had been instructed to move further into the mountains, the topography creating a natural barrier between the people living there and anyone coming to attack them.

They once again stopped at the neck and Dany was shocked to see the moors transformed from the last time they had been there. Down below a small division of men had built a smaller wall across the landscape, most likely completely across the narrow bridge of land connecting the North to the rest of the kingdoms. A large trench was being dug before the wall, most likely to fill with water once completed. She spoke with Jon once they were on the ground.

“Did you know about all of this?” She asked him.

He nodded back at her. “Robb kept me apprised of the work and I sent my suggestions.”

“This whole time you’ve been planning this war, haven’t you?” Dany asked.

“I told you when we first met Dany that this was a true threat.” Jon said seriously. “My people have been trusting me to lead them. I’m the only one who had truly believed that this was coming. Someone needed to prepare them. I left instructions with Sansa and Robb and I have been communicating this whole time.”

She reached out and put her hand on his arm. “I’m sorry if you felt like I didn’t believe you. It’s just hard to believe something you’ve never seen.” She smiled. “Now I know how people feel about my dragons.”

Jon nodded at her and pulled her in for a hug and kiss on the head. “I knew you’d never believe me until it came to this, but I’m grateful you trusted me enough to send the Dothraki and Unsullied ahead. I’m so glad we found each other Dany. Not just because of this war and the fact that you had the resources we desperately needed, but because I desperately needed you.”

Dany looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “I feel the same way, Jon. All of my visions and dreams of Westeros always centered around the North, and you. Now that I’ve had you, I can’t imagine my life without you.” She kissed him harshly, digging her fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck. He gave the affection back quickly, grabbing her around the waist and pulling her impossibly closer. “I need to tell you something.” She whispered to him when they barely broke apart.

He nodded his head at her to continue. “I’m with child. Sam confirmed it a few days ago. I’m pregnant with our heir Jon. Our miracle.” His eyes went wide and his mouth slack. He stared at her for a long time before tears started pooling amongst the grey and his smile was huge. “How?” He asked. She just shrugged. “Some curses are just meant to be broken. Apparently, there’s enough magic between the two of us to break this one. All of the parts of the curse were present on the day the volcano erupted on Driftmark. The curse broke and we made a child.”

He wrapped her up in his strong arms and pulled her close to his body. His Valyrian steel armor kept her from feeling his warmth but he continued to kiss every part of her he could reach, and her skin heated regardless. “I want to get married, Dany. I don’t want there to be any question about his or her legitimacy. It’s beyond time for us to get married. When we arrive at Winterfell, we’re going straight to the weirwood tree.”

“The moment we arrive?” She questioned, giggling. “Yes.” He responded immediately.

They spent another long few moments embracing one another before they turned back to their dragons and passengers. Both Missandei and Sam knew about the baby and when they returned to them, Jon and Dany were greeted with warm congratulations and big hugs. They mounted Drogon and Rhaegal once again and Viserion flew next to them in the air.

They continued for several more hours before they made it to Winterfell. The weather had gotten worse as they drew closer to the castle and the armies were barely visible through the snow. Once they landed just in front of Winterfell, they were greeted by all of their commanders. Davos stood predominately first before them as Jon’s Hand it was his role to be the greeter. Robb, Edmure, and Harrold stood as representatives of the North, Riverlands, and Vale respectively. Qhono, Jorah, and Greyworm were also present and Dany could see Arya and Gendry just off to the side. All of them respectively bowed before Jon and Daenerys and Robb opened his mouth to speak when Jon interrupted him. “Before we do anything else, the queen and I will be married in front of the weirwood. Now.”

“Now?” Robb questioned. “Like right this moment?”

Jon nodded. “Now.”

All of them turned to look at her but she just smiled and shrugged. “We’d like to be married before we begin this last war.”

Robb smirked. “I know how that feels.” She was happy to see some life in his blue eyes, the man obviously happy for the two of them. “Let’s get on with it then.”

They walked toward the castle, Dany and Missy giggling the whole time about Jon’s impatience. They passed Sansa on the way and Jon called out to her. “Come on, Dany and I are getting married!”

Sansa looked at him as if he were mad. “Right now? In the middle of the night?” Jon just nodded and smiled hugely at her. Sansa opened and closed her mouth as if she were trying to say something but couldn’t find the words. She turned and ran back into the castle. A puzzled look crossed Jon’s face but he finally just shrugged and took her hand, pulling her toward the Godswood.

A few moments later, Jon and Daenerys stood before the weirwood tree with all of their northern allies and close friends present, save Sansa. Ghost walked out from the treeline silently. Jon knelt before him as he came forward and the two greeted each other by pressing their heads to each other. Dany’s eyes filled with tears. Bran sat near the tree in his chair and Jon stood and turned, looking for someone.

“Davos!” he called. “Get over here and marry us!” He said nearly laughing again. Daenerys was laughing watching the bewilderment on everyone’s faces and the pure joy in Jon’s eyes.

Davos trudged up to the weirwood tree. “I don’t know what I’m doing.” The man said.

“Wait!” Came a shout from the castle. Sansa was running up to the tree with maester Wolkan at her side, the man out of breath. “You can’t get married without a maester to record your union, and without a cloak!”

Sansa revealed the bundle she had carried over, it was black velvet embroidered with two intertwined sigils. A red three headed dragon with a growling white wolf. A union of dragons and wolves. “I know you’re both technically Targaryens but I couldn’t let Jon get married without having our house on there somehow.”

Jon and Dany both smiled at the younger woman. “Thank you so much, Sansa.” Jon said softly. She nodded in return and everyone turned to look at Davos.

Davos looked nervous and confused so Robb stepped up and whispered in his ear. “Who comes before the Old Gods this night?” The man said in his Flea Bottom accent, obviously repeating everything Robb was saying.

Jorah stepped up next to Daenerys and took her hand. For a brief moment, she panicked thinking he was about to interrupt but he just gave her a warm smile. “Daenerys, of House Targaryen comes here to be wed, a woman trueborn and noble, the rightful queen of the Seven Kingdoms. She comes to beg the blessings of the Gods. Who comes to claim her?” Jorah finished the traditional script.

Jon looked to Robb, who nodded and then he stepped toward her. “Jon, of Houses Stark and Targaryen, rightful king of the Seven Kingdoms.” He paused and she smiled at him, grateful that he had come so far in accepting who he was. “Who gives her?” His eyes shifted to Jorah.

“Jorah, of House Mormont, who was her protector in the wilderness and her sworn sword forevermore.” Jorah said with a shaking voice. He let go of her hand.

Davos looked to Daenerys. “Queen Daenerys, will you take this man?”

Dany turned and looked into Jon’s eyes, tears filling both of theirs. She subtly put her now free hand on her abdomen where their child grew. “I take this man.” She said following the cadence of the ceremony.

Jon took her hand and Robb pulled Davos out of the way as Jon and Dany kneeled before the weirwood. She turned and watched her husband offer up a prayer to his gods, and she couldn’t help but send up her own wishes to whomever was listening.

They stood together before their friends and family.

Davos then turned to Jon. “You may cloak your bride, Your Grace.”

Jon turned and took the heavy cloak from Sansa and placed it on Dany’s shoulders. She turned back to him and they secured it together. They looked at each other and smiled before coming together in a heated kiss, not bothered by their audience.


	23. Jon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Preparations for the Great War continue. Allies are reunited in the face of the Night King. The battle commences and casualties fall on all sides.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go! It's battle time!
> 
> When I first watched season 8, I tried really hard to find the silver lining, I'm an optimist by nature, but one of my HUGEST pet peeves with the ending of this series comes with the final battle with the Night King. I've corrected it here, so I hope you enjoy and see if you can guess what I was pissed off about. ;)
> 
> Thanks AbstractlySydney, I loved your enthusiasm for the last few chapters and I've been so excited to post them!!

Jon couldn’t help but smile at the silver haired woman currently looking over battle plans across the table from him. She was his wife. His wife. And the mother of his child. It had been three days and he still wasn’t used to it. They also hadn’t had any time to properly celebrate, both too exhausted to do much with each other in bed. Their couplings had been rushed and not the languid lovemaking sessions that they had indulged in previously. He watched her look of concentration as she slipped back and forth between Dothraki and Valyrian when speaking to her commanders. If he would have been told when Melisandre brought him back to life that within a year, he would be a king, married to a queen, with a child on the way he would have thought it mad. Now looking at her, he couldn’t imagine his life without her violet eyes and soft smile.

“We do actually have work to do, Your Grace.” Davos said, chuckling near his ear. Jon turned to see the older man looking at him with a kind expression. “The army of the dead will be here within the week, and we’re hardly prepared.”

“Have we cleared out every Keep on the way down to Winterfell?” Jon asked seriously.

Davos shook his head grimly. “Last Hearth was hit. None of them have made it south from there. The Free Folk abandoned the Dreadfort and brought all of their people here. The smallfolk they sent to White Harbor. With Euron gone, it’s now safe to take to the sea and that will be the last resort for the smallfolk there. Glover went back to Deepwood Motte, so there’s no telling if he’s still alive since the dead are coming from the east and he’s on the west.”

“Let’s assume he’s either dead or he sailed out, but either way, he’s not coming here.” Jon replied. “Gods that man is the most thick-headed moron I’ve ever met.”

Robb nodded his agreement. “Also, what’s left of the Night’s Watch has made their way here. The new Lord Commander should be…” Robb was cut off by a familiar voice.

“Well, Snow looks like you managed to find some men for this crazy fight.” Dolorous Edd, the current Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch stepped in for a hug. Jon caught the man and hugged him roughly, smacking him on the back. “The fucker’s got a bigger army than we’ve ever seen Jon.”

Jon looked at him alarmed. “Did you see them?”

Edd nodded. “Just as we were evacuating Castle Black. They’re spreading like a storm, just like before. He’s got giants and mammoths. They just keep moving. We cleared the cells and brought a couple men with us.”

Edd jerked his thumb behind him and Jon saw three men. One was huge with a scar that took up nearly half his skull. The man in the middle had long red hair that was pulled up to a bun with a smirk on his face. The third looked worse for the wear, with an eye patch over one eye and scars across his face. “Caught these three trying to get beyond the Wall. Why the fuck they wanted to go that way, I’ve got no idea.”

Jon turned fully toward the men and crossed his arms over his chest. With his Valyrian steel armor and both swords strapped on, he looked ready to go to war. “Holy fuck. Is that Valyrian armor?” The man in the middle asked. “How the fuck did ya get that?”

“How about you explain your business first?” Jon replied. The table behind him had gone quiet and he knew without looking that all eyes were trained on the exchange.

The man with the eye patch was the one to step forward. “I’m Beric Dondarrion, this is Thoros of Myr, and Sandor Clegane, the Hound.” The man had indicated to his two companions. “We came North because there’s a war to fight, we just thought it would be north of the Wall.”

“Unfortunately, not.” Jon replied. “I’m Jon Targaryen, the rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms. My wife Daenerys Targaryen, and our men. If you’re here to fight we could definitely use the help.”

“How did the leader of the Brotherhood without Banners make it all the way up here?” Robb asked.

Jon watched as Beric’s eyes grew wide. “Lord Stark. I can’t believe I’m seeing you alive.”

The Hound let out a bestial laugh. “This coming from the man who’s died six times?”

“Well, it’s not like Thoros is going around raising other people from the dead.” Beric replied drily.

“No, but someone brought him back with fire magic.” Thoros indicated Jon with his flask. “The red woman help you, Your Grace?”

Jon nodded slowly, eyeing the three men. “Well shit, she ‘ere?” Thoros asked. Jon shook his head. “Banished, for murder.” Thoros made a face and then nodded as if he believed the accusation without question.

“You know you’ve got about a week before these fuckers make it here, right?” The Hound asked. Everyone nodded in response and the man just grunted. “Arya around?”

Jon and Robb exchanged looks at the man’s question. What did he want Arya for? “She’ll be near the forges.” Daenerys cut in. “If you don’t have anything more to say, go get yourselves some food and find an assignment.” Jon looked at his wife questioningly, but she just shook her head impatiently.

Edd took up a space around the table as strategy talks resumed after the quick meeting. “The trenches have been dug here, and here.” Robb was indicating on the map. “The Northern armies will be placed here, near the entrance to the Wolf’s Wood. The Riverlands will be on the other side. I’ve decided to put Dickon Tarly and his Lannister men with Edmure. He could use the extra men and they’re most closely allied with the Riverlands. The Dothraki and the Vale are our cavalry, so they’ll stay up the middle of the field, it’s what they’re best at. The Unsullied will be stationed in the trenches just before the castle walls, our last defense against the coming waves. Most of the commanders will stay with their men, but a few will stay within the walls of Winterfell in the case of a siege.”

“The Others overtook the Wall.” Jon said. “I think it’s safe to say if they get close enough to Winterfell, there won’t be much of a siege. Also, we need to limit the number of casualties. Every one of our men that fall on the battlefield becomes a soldier in their army.” Everyone looked rightfully terrified at the prospect.

“Fair enough.” Robb replied. “But Bran is insisting he be near the weirwood, it will give us the best look at where the Night King is and what his motivation is. The woman, children, and old people still here will hide down in the crypts.”

“Jon.” Edd vied for Jon’s attention. He turned to look at his friend. “Before we left Castle Black, as the dead approached, any dead that we had in the cells, well, they rose. Blue eyes and everything.”

Jon looked back at Robb, panicked. “If we put them down in the crypts, we’re going to have to dig everyone up and burn them.” Robb looked extremely uncomfortable at the prospect. “We should block off the lower levels. That way we only have to burn the most recent additions.” Jon didn’t need to add that this included their close family members including Ned and Lyanna. “We have nowhere else to put people Robb, we have to do it.”

Robb nodded reluctantly and then went to assign the task to northmen he knew would be respectful of the remains. Neither Robb nor Jon wanted to dig up their parents themselves but they would burn them.

They spent the next hour going over positioning on the field when Edmure had finally had enough strategy and broke through. “We don’t even know how they’re going to come at us. Who is going to be in front? Who do we need to kill…er destroy first? Are they like us, if we take out their commanders will they be lost?” Robb looked at his uncle with a mutinous glare when Daenerys spoke.

“That’s actually not a bad point.” She looked up at Jon. “Do you know the answers to his questions?”

Jon shrugged. “Not really. The White Walkers are the commanders with the Night King at the head. When they hit Hardhome the Walkers all stayed together in formation. Only one came out and attacked me. I didn’t notice any direct change when I killed him though.”

“Is this something Bran can answer?” Davos asked Robb. Robb shrugged. “He can see them moving, but I doubt he knows their battle strategy.”

“I think Jon and I need to go scouting.” Dany interrupted the conversation. Jon whipped around toward her. “What?” He said loudly.

“I think you and I should take Drogon and go see the army for ourselves. It’s the only way we’ll get a clear view.” Dany said calmly. “I need to see them with my own eyes, and Jon will be the best to understand their formations and strategy.”

Everyone in the strategy room just stared at her silently for a long moment. All at once it seemed like they all had an argument for why flying over the army of the dead on the back of a dragon was a really bad idea. The noise in the room was chaotic, but the whole time Jon simply looked at Dany. They stood there staring at each other in the midst of all of the arguing back and forth and came to the conclusion together in silence. They would fly with Drogon to see the army. She had to see it, she needed to understand, and they needed to look for anything that would help with strategy. Both of them turned together to leave the room. Voices escalated in volume and panic as they walked out.

Jon and Daenerys donned heavy cloaks and went to meet Drogon outside of the castle walls. Without a word, they both mounted the massive dragon and took to the air. Jon held tightly to his wife’s waist as they ascended up into the storm clouds above. He couldn’t remember anything colder than the air surrounding them. Even beyond the wall. He could feel Dany trembling beneath his hands. They climbed higher into the clouds and hid amongst the gray expanse. It wasn’t long before Drogon slowly lowered them from the cloud cover.

The scene below them was straight out of nightmares. He felt Dany recoil against him as the army of the dead came into view. There were no words to say, no triumphant exclamations for being right. Who wanted to be right about something like this? Far below them marching slowly and silently were hundreds of thousands of bodies. It wasn’t even right to call them men anymore. Most were in such a state of decay that they weren’t much more than bones. Giants loomed out of the mist above the normal height of most of the creatures. Some were dressed in the clothes of Free Folk, others were dressed as the Night’s Watch, and some were dressed in northern garb. The only thing every member of this army had in common were their unnaturally glowing blue eyes.

They flew silently over the migrating swarm until Jon spotted them. Mounted on decaying horses, the White Walkers watched as their army flowed around them. No decay was found on these creatures, their smooth white hair and skin was tautly pulled over their faces. There were several mixed in with their armies while there were four that flanked one central figure. In the center of the commanders was the leader of their opposition, the creature who haunted Jon’s dreams. Sitting astride his horse with horns peeking out around his head as if a crown of ice, was the Night King.

Abruptly, the creature turned his gaze upward and found them almost immediately in the sky. All three of them had visceral reactions to his attention. Drogon almost seized in the air and desperately made for cloud cover while Jon and Daenerys cringed in their seats. Drogon did climb up above the clouds once more, beyond the sight of the army below. He banked around to turn them back toward Winterfell. In that last moment, Jon felt an instinct to move Drogon out of the way. He urged Daenerys and her mind connected solidly to the dragon’s and pulled him off to the right. Just as they passed the spot they would have been in had they stayed in a straight line, a giant ice spear rose from the clouds below them and flew beyond them. Dany made a noise of distress and practically flattened herself against Drogon, urging him to the safety of Winterfell as fast as possible.

Jon and Dany landed in the field the dragons had claimed as their own. They dismounted quickly as Drogon turned to the warmth of his brothers, his head ducked down towards them as if recounting their tale of the army of the dead. Dany turned toward him with wide eyes. “Jon…” He simply nodded solemnly. “I know.”

He pulled her trembling body into his and held her for a long moment. The dragons encircled them and kept the winter chill of their backs. They stood and just soaked in each other’s presence. “Is it too late to run away?” She asked with a soft humorless chuckle. He simply smiled at her softly and gave her a soft, sweet kiss on her lips.

Dany walked shell shocked back to the castle. They entered the strategy room where all at once all of the commanders turned to look at them. Tormund looked at the pair of them and said, “You’ve seen them. The fuckers are almost here.”

Jon nodded at Tormund while Dany continued to stare mutely at the table. Both Qhono and Greyworm looked at her intently while Missandei looked troubled. “Your Grace…” she began.

Daenerys cleared her throat and looked at all of the people assembled in the room. “We have to win. There is no other alternative. The other kingdoms will fall without us. Missandei, send ravens south. I want the effort at the Twins doubled.” Missandei hesitated for a brief moment but then quickly moved out of the room.

The rest of the strategy meeting they planned for the formation Jon and Dany had seen across the army of the dead as they had flown above them. Dany was quiet while Jon relayed what they had seen. She was quiet through the evening meal, and even quiet once they reached their bedchamber. He felt miserable. It was one thing to be vindicated in your arguments, but if there was one he would have liked to have exaggerated or just been wrong about, it was this one. There was a soft knock on the solar door as they prepared for bed. Jon went to open the door and found Sansa on the other side.

“I wanted to give you this.” Sansa said, handing Jon a small wooden box. “When they were emptying out the crypts today, this was found with Aunt Lyanna. Your mother. I thought you should have it. No one has opened it.”

Jon looked up at Sansa. “Thank you, Sansa. How did it go with the crypts today?”

Sansa shuddered and closed her eyes briefly. “It was terrible.” She whispered. “I couldn’t watch them after they pulled out Rickon. I just left them to do the rest of the work.”

Jon nodded. “You didn’t need to see it. Neither Robb nor I wanted to. That’s why we asked other men to do it.” She smiled softly at him and nodded briefly.

“They’ll be burning them all at dawn tomorrow in the western field. If you’d like to join us.” She said. He nodded solemnly. “Are you two alright? I heard you saw your own horrors today.” Sansa asked.

Jon nodded at her. “We’ll be fine. Thank you.”

Sansa left and Jon looked down at the small box she had handed him. On one side was a direwolf sigil and on the direct opposite was a crudely carved Targaryen dragon. He ran his fingers lightly over the box and carried it into the bedchamber.

Dany looked up as he placed the box in her lap on the bed. “What’s this?”

“They found it in my mother’s tomb today.” Jon explained. Dany gasped and inspected the box, no doubt seeing the two sigils carved into it. She reached out and grabbed his hand tightly. “Do you want me to open it?” She asked. He nodded.

With a deep breath, Dany cracked the lid on the small box. Her brow furrowed as she looked inside. There were two pieces of parchment and a ring in the box. She grabbed the ring first. A man’s signet ring, it bore the sigil of House Targaryen. Jon knew without a doubt that he was looking at his birth father’s signet ring. She handed it to him after she inspected it. He set it on the bedside table. The next thing she took out was an embossed piece of parchment. They both leaned over it to read and were shocked to see the official notice of marriage between Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen. They looked at each other wide eyed and placed it with the ring. The final piece of parchment was smaller and was written in a sprawling hand. Dany briefly scanned it but handed it up to Jon. He swallowed hard as he read the only missive from his mother to him.

“ _ My dear child _ ,” the note began. “ _ I cannot begin to fathom what your life has been if you are reading this note. I am writing this weeks away from your arrival, your father has left to go to battle. If you’re reading this, then I am gone and possibly your father as well. I want you to know that you were wanted and loved dear one. The simple truth of your life is that Rhaegar and I fell in love, and we ran off to be together. He felt strongly that he needed to have at least one more child, you. Because of this belief, Elia, his first wife, agreed to the arrangement. He loved you too. I hope you have found your place in this world, my love. Never forget you are the child of ice and fire, and our greatest hopes and dreams for the future. All my love, Your Mother _ .”

When Jon looked up, both he and Dany had tears in their eyes. Without saying a word, Daenerys packed all of the contents back into the box and set it on the bedside table. Jon finished getting undressed and moved to lay beside her under the furs. He turned on his side and looked at his wife, the mother of his child. She would never have to write a note like that to their child. She would either be with them, or they would all be gone. Dany reached out and ran a hand down the side of his face. “Are you alright?” She asked softly.

Jon nodded. “It was good to hear from her, even from beyond the grave.” Jon could feel his forehead wrinkle as thoughts came to mind. “My uncle has much to answer for. Why would he bury the box with her rather than save it for me?”

Dany looked at him sympathetically. “I think we both know by now that he chose to let you live a life of anonymity. Whether that was for your safety or Robert’s, that we’ll never know.”

Jon sighed deeply and turned onto his back. Dany moved to lay over him, giving her the comfort of her soft presence against him. Eventually, they both drifted off to sleep only to be wracked by nightmares of the army they had seen that day.

At dawn, the Stark siblings assembled on the western field in front of a crudely built pyre. On top were bodies covered with linen. Each of the bodies were in various stages of decay and it would have been disrespectful to leave them out in the open to prying eyes. Jon breathed deep as he watched the smoke rise above the man he called father and his birth mother. On his finger sat his father’s signet ring from the box found in Lyanna’s crypt. Side by side the brother and sister rose above the air free from the boundaries of their bodies.

Two days later, the last of the preparations were done, and Bran had warned them that by sunset the army would be upon them. Jon knew the Night King would not wait for daybreak like most men would. The battle would be during the night. He had been trying to convince Dany that she should fly down further south, maybe to the Neck and wait out the battle there. Their most heated battle had been that afternoon, hours before the army would arrive. They had spent the day making sure dragonglass and Valyrian steel weapons had been distributed and the armies knew their assignments.

“I need you to go, Dany.” Jon said. “You’re carrying our child, the future of our house and all of Westeros.”

“There won’t be a Westeros if we don’t win this battle!” She insisted back.

“And what happens if we lose our child in the process?” He asked. He felt like a complete ass asking her that, but he didn’t want her anywhere near the battle.

Tears had filled Dany’s eyes at the thought, and she looked at him. “Then I will know that I sacrificed absolutely everything for my people.”

“I can’t do this with you here, worrying about you the whole time.” Jon had pleaded.

“And you can’t do it without me to help control the dragons.” Dany said finally.

Jon took a deep breath and collapsed into a chair. Dany came to him and sat on his lap, holding his face in her hands. “We’re husband and wife now, my love. We will do this together, rid the world of this monster together, and then we will live our lives. Together.” There was nothing more to be said, it was done.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and stared deeply into her eyes. “I love you more than life itself. If we do die on the battlefield today, know that I will be happy because I got to have you.”

She smiled at him. “I love you too, but this will not be our end, husband. The Gods, or whatever nameless force is out there brought us together for a purpose. I will not let that purpose end with our deaths.”

Dany reached for him and buried her hands in his curls. He pulled her as close as possible while in his full battle gear. His Valyrian steel breastplate ground against his. It would take far too long to get redressed fully, but he was determined to have her one last time. She seemed just as eager as she moved from his lap to the table. She was removing her leg coverings and underclothes just enough as Jon was undoing the laces on his breeches to get his now throbbing cock out. It was pure desperation, the need to feel close to one another when faced with almost certain death. Once his breeches were down far enough, he grabbed her roughly and pulled her toward him.

Their heated kiss was full of all the passion they felt for one another. Jon’s teeth dug into her bottom lip and pulled her lips apart. She snaked her tongue into his mouth in response. They stood there for a long moment sharing breath as they kissed hotly. Their hands were in each other’s hair and they pressed impossibly close to one another. Dany broke first looking Jon in the eye as they parted, “fuck me, husband.”

Jon didn’t need to be told twice, he took her hips and turned her so that her back was to his chest and he bent her over the table. “I’m sorry we don’t have time for more, my love.” Jon breathed into her ear.

“I don’t need softness, Jon. I just need you. Now.” Daenerys commanded.

With that, Jon lined himself up and thrust into her waiting body. They both groaned at the sensation. It was perfect every time. Her body clamped down on him and he thrusted through her hot, slick folds. He pushed her harder than normal, his hips snapping in almost desperation to be one with her. She didn’t complain, her grunts and moans growing louder as he pounded into her. She lifted her upper body and reached an arm back to cup the back of his head and bring him into an awkward position for a kiss. They kissed desperately as Jon continued to thrust up into her body and Dany slammed hers down onto his cock. Their groans and moans grew in volume as they both got close to their end. Dany once again collapsed onto the tabletop and Jon reached under her to circle the bundle of nerves. That’s all it took for Daenerys, she came screaming, not caring who heard her. Jon thrusted two more times before he was spent, his seed coating the inner walls of her channel.

He collapsed on top of her, his head on the back of her shoulder. Jon was careful to put most of his weight on his arms placed on either side of her body. Their breathing was harsh as they came down from their high. After a few long moments, they both stood and corrected their clothing. They came together for soft kisses and words of devotion until a sound pierced the air. It was the scout’s horn. The enemy was upon them. After one last sweet kiss and embrace, both Jon and Dany put on their solemn faces and moved out of their rooms.

***

The scene inside Winterfell was one of organized chaos. The smallfolk were running to their assigned places and the commanders were stalking with purpose through the hallways. They reached the courtyard just as last-minute commands were given. Arya and Gendry would stay within the castle walls, the last defense for Bran should the Night King breach. Both were equipped with dragonglass and Valyrian steel. Gendry’s hard work in the forges might very well be what gave them victory this night. He spotted Missandei and Greyworm having a very passionate goodbye at the entrance to the crypts. She disappeared through the doorway as he made his way to the front lines. Sansa was speaking with Brienne and Podrick who would guard the entrance to the crypts, protecting the women and children. Dany headed off to have a few last words with Jorah, who would ride with the Dothraki.

Sansa spotted him as he entered the courtyard and before he knew it, all the remaining members of House Stark stood together. Ghost sat patiently by his side, a real-life representation of their house sigil. Sansa with her regal air, she would be down in the crypts, but not unarmed unless they had missed a few bodies. Arya, slight but powerful. He could see several weapons on her, no doubt with more hidden. Bran sat stoically in his chair, as per usual, and simply met his eye with determination. And then Robb, the eldest of them, their natural leader. Jon would be King, but Robb would always be the head of the Stark family. They all looked to him and he smiled slowly. “We have been tasked with protecting the North and its' people. But today is about more than that. We are the last defense against the darkness.”

“The shield that guards the realm of men.” Jon said softly, repeating part of his Night’s Watch vows.

Robb nodded at him. “Jon, we couldn’t have done this without you. Thank you for preparing us for this, for forcing everyone to believe in the impossible. Sansa, you have prepared Winterfell so well for this moment. Every crack in her walls has been repaired and every measure to fortify has been done. Arya, thanks to you and Gendry we have the weapons we need to fight this enemy. And Bran, thank you for being our eyes and ears. I love you all. At first, I wasn’t grateful to be the one spared my fate at the Twins, but being here with you know, I know that I was needed. We will stand together tonight, because that is how the pack survives.”

All of the siblings nodded and exchanged hugs. Robb and Jon were the last to embrace as their siblings separated to their respective positions. “Jon.” Robb started. “I know that being King is not what you wanted, but…” Jon held up his hand to stop his brother.

“Robb, everything is as it should be. I want you to take Ghost with you. No one will look out for him better than you, and he will protect you.” Jon said with a soft smile. “Now stay alive, and I’ll see you in the morning.” Robb would be leading the Northern armies on the flank and would be in the thick of battle. Jon had a brief goodbye with his truest companion. Jon impressed upon the wolf that his main duty was to keep Robb alive, and then to come home. He and the wolf stared at each other for a long moment, exchanging feelings. Jon released him and then looked up to the walls of Winterfell where Davos stood. Davos was staying behind to command the forces inside the castle. He sent the man a grateful nod which he returned.

Jon turned and was face to face with the youngest surviving Stark. Jon loved Bran, but he had to admit there was little of the boy he remembered in the young man before him. “Jon.” Bran started in a monotone voice. “He is coming for me. He wants me dead. I don’t know what exactly will happen when I die, but I know that it will give him free reign on the earth. He will want to come into the castle to find me. That will be your opportunity. Likely your only one. Take it.” Jon stared at the younger man who simply turned and rolled away without another word. He didn’t even know what to say to his brother’s message.

Jon mounted the horse that he would ride up to the dragons on the hill overlooking the battle and went to meet his wife who was having last words with the Dothraki and Unsullied. As he rode through the men, Jon saw their terrified faces. He felt the need to send whatever words he could their way. Jon maneuvered his horse, so he was before the Vale, the Dothraki, the Unsullied and the Northmen inside the castle. Jon could see the Free Folk standing just between the Dothraki and the Unsullied behind them. Tormund’s red hair aflame in the dim light. Wun Wun stood above all the soldiers, a burning torch in his hand. The two flanks of Riverlands and Northmen were too far away to hear his words.

“Tonight will be hard, this battle will wage as if hell itself is on earth. You will face indescribable horrors. We will all bear its wounds for years to come. But we will have victory. We must have victory. Because if this army defeats us, it will defeat everyone else. We stand together now, as more than men of Westeros. As men of all lands to fight our common enemy. Death itself. Stay alive, every one of you who falls adds a number to their ranks.” As he spoke Jon could hear the translations for the Dothraki and Unsullied going down the lines. “Forget titles and ranks, houses and allegiances. Tonight, we are all one people standing against the darkness, united until the end.”

“Until the end!” Harrold Hardyng at the front of the Vale contingent shouted back. The shout started to echo over the whole army and Jon watched as weapons were gathered and spines straightened.

Daenerys rode to him with fire in her eyes. “My King.” She greeted. “My Queen.” He returned with a smile. They turned their horses and rode up the hill to their waiting fire breathing mounts.

From the top of the hill, Jon and Dany could see Winterfell lit like a beacon, fires burned on every tower of the castle and the trenches closest to the castle already burning. Someone had lit the Dothraki arakhs on fire and they held them aloft in the air. In opposition, on the other side of the field where the storm was brewing was pure darkness. Jon turned to Daenerys. “We need to light their way. We can’t send them into total darkness. If we light the first line of trees in the forest it should hold the fire for some time.”

She nodded. “Dany…” He began. She just smiled at him and put her fingers to his lips. “Avoid the big ice stakes that apparently they can throw really far. Don’t get distracted. And remember above all else that I love you.” He smiled back at her and leaned in for a brief kiss.

They both mounted their respective dragons. Drogon looked huge and fierce in the dark night, the light glinting of his dark scales. Rhaegal’s intelligence showed in his bright eyes as he met Jon squarely face to face. Viserion moved stealthily behind them to come up on Drogon’s other side. He looked one last look at his beloved queen before they both gave the commands to take to the air. They flew up in the air amongst the boiling cauldron of clouds where the air was literally freezing all around them. Jon felt Rhaegal bank hard to the left and Jon nearly fell from his position, looking to see what had happened a large ice spear had come up from beneath them. Another one flew out of the darkness and Jon maneuvered quickly around it. He quickly wondered just how many spears the Night King had. He didn’t have time to dwell on it because Rhaegal started his descent toward their goal. They silently glided down toward the line of trees that made up the entrance to the Wolf’s Wood. Jon screamed out the command. “Dracarys!” The world lit up around him as Rhaegal set fire to the trees, illuminating the future battlefield and the staggering enemy before them. On the opposite side of the field Jon could see Daenerys doing the same.

Jon looked down below him and his heart stopped. A White Walker was looking up at him with malice in his eyes, holding a large spear similar to the ones that had come above the clouds. There was no time to move, no way to get out of the projectile’s path. Jon gripped Rhaegal’s horns hard and gave the command once again for fire, but it lit the wights below them, and not the White Walker who was just out of range. Jon froze as the creature reared back to throw the ice javelin. Before he could, he was swallowed in flame. Viserion roared as he emerged from the darkness, setting the Walker alight. Jon watched as the creature exploded into ice, and as he did a large number of wights around him fell unmoving to the earth. Jon gasped as realized what just happened. If you killed a White Walker, his wights also fell. His heart soaring, Jon was grateful for the attention of Rhaegal who missed another ice spear headed his way and banked hard yet again. Jon flew hard back to Winterfell to give the news. Jon flew up to the wall of the castle where he was face to face with Davos. He could hear the roars and streams of fire from the two dragons behind him on the battlefield. He told Davos what he had seen with the White Walkers and Davos immediately turned to inform the commanders.

Jon was just turning Rhaegal to return to the fight when he heard a dragon’s terrifying scream. He had heard it before outside of Highgarden when Drogon took a bolt from a ballista, but this one wasn’t Drogon. He turned to see Viserion, his white hide stained red where he had been glanced by an ice spear. Luckily it didn’t look like it had pierced him dead on, but the dragon was injured and falling back to the protection of the armies below him, out of range of the spears. That left Drogon and Dany without any backup. Jon looked on in horror as numerous spears took to the sky around the largest dragon. Jon screamed out a command to the men below him, and the Dothraki charged on the dead men. Rhaegal and Jon flew hard back to Dany and Rhaegal targeted the main group of White Walkers standing with the Night King. None of them caught fire, but it was close enough to throw off their concentration while Drogon and Rhaegal flew up and out of reach.

Jon looked over at Dany whose face was nearly translucent with fright. “We need to be more careful!” He screamed over the wind. “Don’t go at them head on!” He saw her nod barely through the darkness.

This time as they dove, Jon and Dany came in from the sides of the army and to their rear. They lit up the back of the line of wights, trapping the army within nearly a complete box of fire. Jon watched as the Dothraki charged the front line of wights. The sounds from the battle below were horrendous. The only way to aid them was to send more fire over the armies, but they had just as much of a chance of burning the Dothraki as they did the enemy. Jon chose his line carefully while Daenerys distracted the Night King and the Walkers. He sent a stream of fire separating the fighting wights and Dothraki from the rest of the wight army. Watching the battle below him was strange as he was usually down in the thick of it. Jon winced as he watched arakhs swing in the fire light and heard the yelping of horses.

The battle continued like this for some time, the dragons darting in and out of the fray, trying desperately to avoid the ice spears thrown by the Night King and the other White Walkers. They carved out groups of wights by using fire to divide up the army. But slowly and surely the dead were gaining ground and the dragons were tiring. Jon looked down at a sudden shout on the battlefield. The wights had broken the line of fire on the left flank of the battlefield and moved in on the Riverlands contingent. Jon’s heart was in his throat as he watched the wights tumble over the living men like water rushing over rocks. Cries of pain and death reached his ears as he watched the army overtake Edmure Tully and his forces. The Knights of the Vale entered the conflict, riding out to meet the dead men who had taken the left flank. A victorious shout echoed up as he watched Harrold Hardyng cut down a White Walker and a large number of wights dropped. Jon saw Dickon Tarly and his men rush behind the calvary back toward the castle, the dark Lannister armor barely visible in the night. It wasn’t to be though as the Night King moved into the position. Jon watched on in horror as the creature raised his arms. He knew what would happen. In a split-second Jon made the decision to dive down and set fire to all the corpses on the ground. That included any of the Riverland men.

Jon realized at the last second though that it had been a trap as an ice spear came from the center battlefield, striking Rhaegal on his side. The dragon screamed and nearly collapsed in on himself. Jon urged the great beast to at least get behind the protection of the armies. Rhaegal barely made it and crashed into the side of Winterfell. Jon immediately hopped down from the dragon and reached his side where he pulled out the spear. The ice at the tip had dissolved, most likely when coming in contact with the dragon’s hot blood, but the spear had done its damage. Rhaegal was out of this fight, hopefully he would survive the night. Jon gave him a strict command to crawl as best he could to the other side of the castle where he would be out of range of the advancing army. Jon watched as the dragon pitifully followed the directive. He looked back to the battlefield. Two dragons were down, and Dany was once again hiding in the mixture of clouds and smoke above the scene. The army was pushing its way through the Dothraki. The Free Folk and the Unsullied held the lines behind large trenches filled with spears.

He heard battle cries in the direction of the right flank, Robb’s unit, but now on the ground, Jon couldn’t see what was happening. Panic was starting to set in as he watched wave after wave of wights make their way to the castle. He and Daenerys had been careful to take out the giants and mammoths on the Night King’s side, but the numbers were still overwhelming. Jon watched as the last of the Dothraki were pushed back to their starting point. The Knights of the Vale, those that survived were also back near the entrance to the castle.

Jon unsheathed and raised Longclaw, lighting it with the blood from his palm he moved to confront the waves of wights. He met them on the battlefield. Chaos reigned. Everywhere there was a battle waging. He saw Tormund in the corner of his eye wielding his giant axe and a dragonglass dagger. Wun Wun fought beside him, swinging his burning torch at anything that came near. Jon focused on the wights coming for him. He swung his sword through two of them on one swing and then turned to face the next. He kicked one away from him as he swung his sword behind him to take out one and then continue the stroke to behead two others. Nothing he did stopped the onslaught. For every one wight he destroyed, two more took their place. Soon he was surrounded. He unsheathed his second blade, the dragon pommel glowing green in the fire light. The sword didn’t even have a name yet, but Jon knew if he survived tonight it would be something to do with this battle. He found his rhythm quickly swinging both swords, one on fire at the approaching hoard.

Finally, after taking down nearly thirty wights, an exhausted Jon came face to face with a White Walker. They stared at each other for a long moment before they engaged. The battle was ferocious, blow after blow met between them. The Walker’s unnatural strength aiding him. The creature bested Jon and Longclaw flung out of his hand to land somewhere in the distance. Jon met the Walker with the one blade, his dragon sword. He ducked under a swing from the undead man carved the blade upward with a shout. The blade made contact with the Walker and he shattered into shards of ice. The immediate group of wights around them fell quickly. Jon took a deep breath and just stared at the carnage around him.

He was shocked back to the present as a flaming sword approached his position. Beric Dondarrion stood before him. “Your Grace!” he shouted. “We’re going to lose here unless you have a plan.” Jon watched as the wights overtook the first line of spears. The Unsullied stood firm, but Jon knew it was only a matter of time. He looked to Beric. “We need to take out the Night King!” He shouted back. “It’s the fastest way. They’ll all drop if he is destroyed.” Beric nodded to him. “How do we draw him in?”

“Bran was sure that he wanted to kill him for some reason. What if we give him a clear path into the castle?” Jon said. He couldn’t believe he was suggesting letting the enemy into their fortress but there was no other way. Beric nodded back at him and headed toward the main gate.

Jon continued to do battle before the walls of Winterfell, surrounded by Free Folk, Dothraki, and Unsullied. He watched as countless wights continued to surge forward, no end in sight. Shouts echoed from the main gate of Winterfell. Jon could see through the battle that the Night King had begun his approach. Jon turned and shouted up at the men on the wall and they dropped a ladder for him. He climbed quickly and found himself on the parapets above the battle. There were a few Free Folk up behind him and then the wights started climbing. The men on the wall shouted and started throwing buckets of tar down the ladder. Soldiers lit arrows with fire and sent them down below. The wights trying to climb burned and the fire quickly spread. The living started pushing their way toward the side entrance to Winterfell to escape the fire and the wights.

At the main entrance the Night King calmly and slowly approached the gate. He watched horrified as Dany and Drogon met him. There was no way to signal to let him through, and it wouldn’t make sense to do so, therefore Dany confronted the creature. She sent the signal to Drogon to fire upon him. The dragon let out a constant stream of fire at the Night King and hope briefly sparked to life within Jon. It was dashed quickly as the creature still stood there once the fire was out. He screamed at Dany to fly away and she did quickly as two Walkers from behind the Night King fired bolts up at her. The Night King slowly surveyed the gate before entering the castle. Jon turned and ran down the stairs frantically trying to find his way to the Godswood first.

He was stopped quickly as he realized the castle had also been breached by the army of the dead. He watched as Brienne and Podrick desperately tried to keep the wights out of the crypts. The Hound had found his way there and was swinging his great sword at all of the oncoming swarm. Beric and Thoros fought near the main gate but one swing of the arm of the remaining undead giants sent both men crashing into a wall, neither moving to get back up. Blood pooling underneath their heads. He saw Greyworm and Red Flea with a small contingent of Unsullied who had come through the side gate trying to hold back the hoard of dead men. Tormund and several of the Free Folk were desperately fighting their foes using their weapons of choice.

He heard a choked cry as the undead giant picked up Lyanna Mormont. Before he could squeeze her to death, the giant staggered. At his feet was Jorah Mormont, cutting into his legs. The giant dropped Lyanna who fell but just seemed to be out of breath and then scrambled away. Jorah found himself face to face with the creature. He raised his sword, but before the giant could attack Jorah, Wun Wun struck the giant with the large torch he had been carrying. The giant went down, his body set alight, but the actions did not save Jorah or Wun Wun who were overtaken by the stream of wights coming through the main entrance. He watched in horror as the two were nearly ripped apart in the onslaught.

Jon snapped out of his trance and fought his way around the other side of the castle, trying desperately to get to the Godswood. Jon didn’t understand the obsession the Night King had with Bran, but perhaps it was that they were both created with the same magic, products of the Old Gods. They balanced one another and with Bran gone, the Night King would reign. Jon fought desperately against the mob of undead bodies. He could feel nails digging into his flesh and at one point was hit over the head with a heavy object. Once he had passed them and to the other side of the line of living men. The line consisted mostly of the Lannister men he had sent north after the battle at Highgarden, he watched as the men beat back the wights trying to enter the castle grounds. Dickon Tarly stood in the center, pushing them ever forward. Jon stopped against a wall behind the forces and assessed his injuries. Nothing was life threatening but it seemed as if every inch of his body had been tortured. Jon could see the wights were circling around to the other side of the castle where he told Rhaegal to wait. He sent up a quick prayer that his dragon made it through the wave of dead men. Sure enough, he heard a roar pierce the air. It was followed quickly by two more and his chest lightened.

Jon entered the courtyard that contained the entrance to the Godswood and his heart nearly stopped. On the ground lay Gendry and over him Arya was bent. At her back, three White Walkers approached her. Before Jon could shout or even move at them from the back a stream of fire rained down on the three. He looked up to see Viserion taking out his revenge on those that had shot him with a spear of ice. He couldn’t help but grin at the dragon that always seemed to be in the right place at the right time. He moved past the burning Walkers and entered the Godswood, two more White Walkers came out of the darkness. One arched his sword at him and caught Jon by surprise. The ice sword hit him squarely in the chest knocking all air out of his lungs and forcing him to the ground. The sword shattered against his Valyrian steel armor. Jon swiped at the second one who had his sword raised and pointed at Jon’s head. The Walker was distracted when the other one that had swung his sword suddenly burst into shards of ice. Arya stood behind him with a Valryian steel dagger in hand. She looked up at the other Walker and said one word to Jon. “Go!”

Jon didn’t want to leave his sister to face the armed Walker alone, but he knew his goal was further in the woods. In front of him he could see the Night King approaching a stationary Bran. There was no way Jon would get to them in time, especially not because there was one last White Walker between him and the Night King. On full alert, Jon fought off the last Walker sword to sword. The Walker managed to hit him in every space not covered by the precious metal he wore as armor. Clearly the most battle ready of the Walkers, Jon narrowly dodged a blow to the head and shoved his sword upward into the Walker’s belly just as the Night King drove his own blade into Bran’s heart.

“No!” Jon screamed as the Night King pulled back from a now dead Bran Stark. The undead man turned to look at him. Jon stood firm. He knew the only way to end this was to kill the creature standing before him. He could still hear the battle raging and cries of agony from back in the castle. Bran was slumped in his chair, his life gone. Jon remembered what Bran had said earlier in the night. “Take it.” So, he took a deep breath and lit his sword with his palm. The Night King looked almost amused at the man facing him. He stepped toward Jon and lifted his own blade, still coated with the blood of his younger brother.

The two met in the center of the Godswood, before the weirwood tree and began their battle. Jon was surprised by the mobility the Night King showed. No matter how Jon moved there was no beating his position. The battle raged between them for a long while and still was a draw. He was growing weak, but the Night King was not. Jon suddenly realized that the only time he was going to catch the creature off guard was when he delivered a killing blow. So instead of avoiding it, Jon let it happen.

The Night King stepped forward and moved his blade so that it pierced Jon just below his breastplate and up into his body. Jon gasped at the pain, but then felt a strange sensation. When Jon had been brought back with fire magic, his blood had taken on new qualities, like being able to light a sword. Apparently, it also melted ice. The sword pierced him, Jon felt it go through his body, but the blade melted quickly inside him, not tearing much of anything. He pulled the master creature closer to him by the hilt of the Night King’s sword. Once he was close enough Jon lifted his own flaming blade and shoved it into the Night King’s heart. He looked shocked and met Jon’s eyes before exploding into a pile of ice.

Jon could hear a thud echo around him as the bodies of the wights must have dropped to the ground. Silence prevailed for a long stunning moment. Then echoing triumphant cries pierced the air. Jon dropped to his knees. The Night King’s blade might not have ripped through his body as a metal sword would have, but the open wound was bleeding continually. The last thing Jon experienced before succumbing to the darkness was a shout of his name and two slight figures rushing toward him. One with silver hair and the other with a long face and gray eyes.


	24. Daenerys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dany deals with the aftermath of the Battle for the Dawn. The dead are honored and victory is celebrated. The Seven Kingdoms start on their path to a new world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi lovelies!!!
> 
> We're so close to the end, just the epilogue to go after this chapter. What a crazy ride this has been!
> 
> Thank you to AbstractlySydney for your beta reading!

Dany raised her head wearily at the knock at the door. For the past three days and nights she had sat vigilant at the side of their bed in Winterfell watching over her husband. Sam continually checked on him, assuring Dany that the wound itself wasn’t the problem, but it was blood loss. Sam was confident he would wake but wasn’t sure when. Dany was nearly beside herself at this point waiting for his beautiful gray eyes to open and look at her. She looked pitifully at the large white mass laying on the floor at his side. Ghost was also healing from several broken ribs but refused to leave his master’s side. Missandei peeked her head in when Dany made a sound of acquiescence. “Your Grace, there’s a bath for you here in the solar as well as food.”

Dany rubbed at her eyes and looked down at Jon, naked from the waist up, with bandages covering his midsection and several on his face, neck, and arms he was still extremely pale. Dany, Robb, and Sansa had taken turns forcing liquid down his throat the last few days and rubbing his muscles as Sam said it would help. All that was left to do was wait. She lifted heavy eyes to Missandei’s face. Just then another familiar face peeked through the doorway.

“I’ll watch over him.” Arya said quietly. “You need to clean yourself up and be ready for him when he wakes. Missandei can catch you up on the happenings around the Keep.”

Daenerys nodded miserably as Arya came to take her seat. She saw the younger woman subtly hold her breath as she passed. Dany looked at her irritably. “How bad is it?”

Arya didn’t even try to lie to her. “It’s bad. You haven’t bathed in four days and still smell like battle, under the body odor and smoke.”

Dany sighed and looked back at Jon. “Just come and get me if he wakes.”

“Of course.” Arya returned.

Daenerys joined Missandei in the adjoining solar. The large tub had been placed before the fire, the table was laden with food and a new set of clothing was laying out for her. Missandei had a small table near the bath covered with soaps, oils, and a comb. Dany started to remove her clothing. Missy helped by kneeling and helping her take off her boots and stockings before standing back up to help her discard the layers.

Daenerys had refused to leave her husband’s side for even a moment. Robb had to hold her and carry her bodily out of the room as Sam and Maester Wolkan had worked on him. Strange accounts had come from the maesters. The sword had pierced Jon, but had done little damage internally, most of the problems a result of massive blood loss.

She hadn’t witnessed the final blow from the Night King, but Arya had. She quickly recounted how Jon had welcomed the Night King’s blade in an effort to draw him close enough to stab him through the heart with his flaming sword. No doubt the account was spreading across the kingdoms as ravens proclaimed the war over and the battle won. Their King had defeated the enemy at the ultimate cost. Tears sprung to Dany’s eyes as she thought about him giving his life. She had no doubt her beloved husband had every intention of sacrificing himself for everyone else, but she hoped that somehow, he overcame his injuries.

As a result of the confinement of Jon to bed, Daenerys had yet to even change out of her battle garments. She hadn’t once asked about her people or her dragons. Her thoughts were entirely consumed by the man lying on the bed in the next room. Until he was gone or awake, she would keep vigil. Missandei carefully removed her layers one by one and placed them in a pile on the floor. Then she went to work on her knotted hair. She carefully unbraided her silver tresses until they streamed unbound down her back. Then she stepped into the scented water, the steam helping her to release the last of her tension.

The two women worked in companionable silence for a long while, Dany washing her body and Missandei spreading soaps and then oils into her hair. Daenerys shivered as the water grew cold, her body refusing to hold heat as it continued to work through the symptoms of shock. Once she was clean, dry, and dressed she found herself seated before the large spread of food before her. She looked up at her faithful friend and motioned for her to sit. “Okay, I think I’m ready. Tell me what’s going on.”

Missandei nodded gently and then took out a piece of parchment. She smirked in Dany’s direction. “There’s much to discuss, and Davos didn’t want me to miss anything.” She said with a slight eyeroll. Dany cracked her first small smile in days.

“First, we should talk about casualties. We lost nearly ten thousand Dothraki, including Chakko. Qhono and Zhowo made it through and have been collecting the bodies of their fallen.” Dany nearly choked as she heard the number. Ten thousand men. “The Unsullied lost about a thousand soldiers, Greyworm and Red Flea both survived the battle, although Red Flea lost his left arm and insists he can no longer be Unsullied.” Dany scoffed at that. Red Flea was a great soldier and commander. Missandei continued down the list.

“The Vale took heavy losses, only about half the men survived. Ser Yohn Royce gave his life to save Harrold Hardyng who fell amongst his men. He’s recovering but is missing the lower portion of his leg. The Northmen survived for the most part, they had taken to fighting in the woods and it allowed them some measure of control over the number of undead that came at them at one time. I believe that was a decision made by Robb Stark at the instance of the Free Folk. Who survived the battle better than anyone else, I should add. The Riverlands were hit arguably the hardest. Aside from a handful of men, the entire contingent fell to the Night King. Edmure Tully is dead along with most of his bannermen. Dickon Tarly and his Lannister men were on that side of the field but managed to escape. They then held the ground within the castle. Most of them showed true bravery.”

Missandei took a deep breath and Dany knew whatever she was about to say was going to hit hard. She gripped her bread tightly as Missy looked her in the eye. “Jorah died.” Choking, Dany had to clutch the table to keep from collapsing onto it. The man who had loved her in spite of her platonic feelings toward him. He had followed her across the world and fought for her to the bitter end. He gave her away to her husband as her friend and loyal companion. “How?” Dany asked softly. “One of the giants.” Missandei answered. “Lady Lyanna Mormont insists that he saved her in his last moments.”

Dany nodded slowly. “Anything else?” She asked hesitantly. Missy nodded. “They haven’t yet burned the dead. The pyres have been built, but they’re waiting for you and Jon. The same can be said with a victory feast. Everyone is soberly waiting for His Grace to wake.”

They both turned to stare at the door leading to the bedchamber. Only silence lay in the rooms. The king still slept. Dany turned back to her, prompting Missy to continue. “There were several more losses amongst the Westerosi that may be significant. Beric Dondarrion, Thoros of Myr, and Delorous Edd, the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch all fell. Brienne of Tarth and Podrick Payne fought almost to the death to keep the wights out of the crypts. We heard them battle ferociously and when we emerged, they both were covered in their own blood. They both said they wouldn’t have survived without last minute help from Sandor Clegane who died protecting them. They’re both lying in recovery with the rest of the wounded in the many stations the maesters have set up.”

Dany sat and quietly ate for several moments. “I suppose I should make the rounds to the wounded.”

“Your Grace, Sansa, Robb, and Davos have been doing it on your behalf and I suggest you continue to allow them to do so.” Missandei said firmly.

“Why?” Dany questioned.

“All you’re going to hear if you go to the bedsides of those people out there is ‘where is the King? Did he really save us all?’ You don’t need to be dealing with that until he wakes, and you know that your husband, the love of your life, and the father of your child is alive and well.” Missandei said clearly.

“Am I allowed that, Missy?” Dany asked.

“Your people need to see their strong queen, and quite frankly I don’t know if you can be that until you know he’s well.” Missandei said softly. “I’m sorry if that offends you.”

Dany shook her head and smiled slightly. “No, I think you’re right.”

Missandei took another deep breath as if preparing to break more bad news. “There’s also a raven from King’s Landing.” It was Dany’s turn to take a deep breath. “A few of the children tasked with discovering the hidden passages in the Red Keep found Tyrion attempting to break his brother out of the cells.”

Anger pulsed in Daenerys’s veins; her mind consumed with fire. “I told him what would happen…”

“It’s more than that, Your Grace. After he was caught and imprisoned by Lady Olenna, Clara went looking through Jaime’s things. His letters from Tyrion were uncovered. All of King’s Landing knows that Tyrion was responsible for Cersei deciding to set fire to Flea Bottom.” Missy said softly.

“Speak your mind, Missy.” Dany said forcefully.

“I just don’t think it’s right to hold him accountable for the actions of his sister. Even if he did provide her with the information that a spy ring was communicating with you out of Flea Bottom. It was still her choice to use wildfire.” Missy reasoned.

“While I can see your point, my friend, the people will not see it that way. And even though he wasn’t directly responsible for the attack on Flea Bottom, what he did was still treason, and was the catalyst for her actions.” Dany said. “I warned him, numerous times. Both Lannister brothers will meet the same fate.”

“Do you want me to write to Olenna and tell her that?” Missandei asked.

“Yes, but tell her to wait until we’re back in the capital.” Daenerys answered. “I want the people to know that I support and endorse the action. He betrayed me and I want to look him in the eye as he realizes I’m the last person he should have turned on. I’ve given him so many chances, but he continues to squander them. He must be held accountable.”

Dany’s head was starting to ache with all of the information being thrown her way. She just wanted to curl up in bed with her husband and sleep for at least a year. There would be more work to do once he woke and it would likely be years before they got the chance to peacefully sleep for a long period of time. If he survived to give them that chance. Daenerys suddenly felt a thousand years old.

As they sat in companionable silence, each pondering over their own train of thought, a soft noise sounded through the door leading to the bedchamber. It took Dany a full minute to realize what that meant, and she suddenly looked up and met Missy’s eyes which were huge and full of hope. Dany nearly leapt from her seat and ran across the room. Flinging open the door she was greeted with the best sight she could imagine; Jon’s eyes were open, and he was smiling at his sister. Both of them turned toward the door and Dany burst into tears as Jon’s eyes met hers. Behind her, she could hear Missandei yelling for Sam.

Dany walked forward and leaned over her husband on the bed, softly running her hands over his face reverently. Jon smiled at her and returned the gesture, his fingers resting on her lips. They stared at each other for a long time, tears coming to Dany’s eyes as she spoke to him using nothing but her hands and eyes. She leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, gently pushing his hair out of his face. Sam entered the room behind her, out of breath as he moved toward the bed. She backed up, giving him room and Arya moved to the solar where Robb, Sansa, and Davos waited.

After nearly an hour of poking and prodding from Sam, and a great deal of teasing from his siblings, Jon was still in bed slowly eating broth out of a bowl. Sam left them with strict instructions on what they could and couldn’t do over the next few days and exited the room. Both Jon and Dany expelled large breaths and Jon put his food on the bedside table. He looked at her and simply lifted the furs for her to climb into the bed beside him. Dany carefully wrapped herself around her husband. Over the next few hours, she regaled him with the tales of the battle and its aftermath. Jon was deeply sad about the loss of life and she could tell he was feeling guilty. “There’s nothing to be done, my love. They fought and died so that we might live. Because of you, we will all live.”

She smiled at him as he looked at her with shiny eyes. “And because of you, we will all live well. Now that this battle is won, it is time to build the world as you see it, my love.” She cuddled closer to him and together they fell into a deep slumber.

***

Jon and Dany didn’t get more than one day abed. There were heroes to be burned and a victory to be celebrated. The mood as they stood outside the walls of Winterfell was somber. Dany stared across the pyres, waiting to be lit. Beyond the stacks of wood with bodies lying on top, the ground and forest surrounding Winterfell looked devastated. Snow everywhere was stained red and the ground was black with scorch marks. The first line of trees was burned down to their trunks. Winterfell would need a long time to recover from the horrors of this battle. The bodies of the undead army had been piled and burned days earlier and now all that was left was to burn the soldiers of the living.

Dany walked up to one of the closer pyres. Ser Jorah Mormont laid still on the mound of wood. The old knight had followed her from place to place and his faith had never wavered. She touched his cold hand gently and swore to him that she would live worthy of his sacrifice and build the world they both wanted to see. Lady Lyanna Mormont approached her from the side. “He will be remembered on Bear Island as a hero of the dawn, instead of an exiled knight. He has reclaimed his position of honor, and I will make sure he is always remembered for his glorious deeds.” The young lady said strongly with only a small amount of emotion.

Daenerys turned to look at her with a soft smile. “Thank you, my lady.” The small young woman simply nodded. Daenerys was put off by Lyanna’s harsh nature at first, but she was fierce so that her men could be equally so, and Dany understood that.

She raised her head and looked beyond Jorah to the other pyres. Some distance away the Dothraki stood vigil over their section of the dead. Covered in dark horse fat to hide from the Great Stallion, her bloodriders stood before their brothers in silence. She had already spent her time walking through the many pyres of Dothraki, paying last respects to her brave warriors. Greyworm and a heavily bandaged Red Flea stood before the pyres holding the fallen Unsullied. Both men stood stoic before them. She smiled softly as she watched Missandei silently support Greyworm as he stood before his men. Daenerys flashed back to the early days of her time with the Unsullied. It was her great pleasure to watch them come alive outside of slavery. Many of them had great senses of humor and great kindness toward others. They were living examples of men who did not let their life circumstances make them cruel but rise above instead. Dany knew that neither the Dothraki nor the Unsullied would stay in Westeros forever, but she selfishly hoped many of them would choose to stay.

On the farthest side of the pyres stood Dickon Tarly with his brother Sam at his side. The two stood vigilant over the stacks containing the bodies of the Reach and Lannister men that had trekked up to Winterfell following the battle of Highgarden. The Northmen had protested, but both she and Jon had insisted that the Lannisters be given a pyre beside everyone else. They had all fought the same battle, the same enemy. She looked with slight shock across the nearly endless piles of wood and realized that part of her dream had been realized, but in such a morbid way. Free Folk, Dothraki, Unsullied, and Westerosi from nearly every kingdom laid together as equals. She sent a quiet vow to the endless dead that they would live as equals as well.

She turned at the muffled sound of crying. The four remaining Starks stood over the center pyre. Sansa Stark had her hand over her mouth, her shoulders shaking as tears rolled down her face as she stared at it. Upon the piles of wood laid Bran Stark, the brother who gave his life to lure the Night King to his eventual demise. No one knew what the repercussions of the death of Bran Stark would be, but Daenerys had noticed that the face on the weirwood had disappeared back into the wood. What that meant, she didn’t know. Beside Bran lay his uncle, Edmure Tully. In the chaos Dany had learned that the man had an infant son with his Frey wife and so the Tully line would continue on in Riverrun. Next two the two men laid another high-born man.

Lord Yohn Royce was not a favorite of Dany’s and she knew that there was no love lost between him and Jon, but she was grateful to the man for his service and sacrifice. Harrold Hardyng stood over the dead man, his hand gently touching his shoulder as he bowed his head to the man who had given his life on his behalf. He leaned heavily on the wooden crutches he’d been given after the loss of his foot and lower leg. Other pyres near the center held other Westerosi bodies and as the Starks walked back to the line of the living come to pay homage, Arya stopped at the pyre that held the body of the Hound. She stood looking at him for a long moment before nodding. Dany looked at Jon, silently asking for an explanation. He simply shook his head. “It’s a really long story.” He said with a slight smile.

Dany turned back to Arya, hoping she would hear it someday. She watched as the young woman made her way to her lover Gendry. He was beaten nearly completely black and blue and was sitting in a chair similar to Bran’s. Sam had told her that his spine had been injured fighting back the White Walkers from the Godswood. Sam was confident the man would walk again, but it would take some time for the swelling to go down. Arya didn’t seem to care about the injury as she stood a sentinel above the blacksmith.

Everyone stood in silence before the piles of bodies and wood. It seemed like no one knew what to say. Daenerys stepped forward. In the silence she raised her voice as loud as she could. This speech would be for the Westerosi, she had already spoken words to the Dothraki and Unsullied. “Before us lay the heroes of the dawn. The men and women who gave their lives so the rest of us might live. We will go our separate ways from here, some of us may never see one another again, but we will always have this battle. We will always know what we sacrificed and how hard we fought to save our loved ones. The dead that lay before us gave us the chance to go forward and to be better. So, we will walk into this new dawn together, united, one people, bound by our triumph here and our shared loss.”

As she finished speaking three silent sentinels descended from the sky. Dragons healed quickly and she was relieved to see Rhaegal and Viserion flying with Drogon. The three dragons didn’t make a sound as they glided down on her command. Every spectator watched in awe as the dragons soared over the field of pyres. Daenerys calmly and quietly commanded “Dracarys.” Without a sound, no vicious roar or scream, the three dragons unleashed a torrent of fire over the pyres. One by one they caught fire. There was no other option for Targaryen monarchs than to send their heroes to the afterlife with dragonfire. No power or malice came from the dragons, just a simple and steady stream of fire as they criss crossed above the grid of dead men.

The smoke rose black above the battlefield as the dragons flew off to their temporary nest. The crackling of fire was a dominating sound as the hundreds of fires raged. Jon stood close to her, his presence warm at her side. He was once again dressed in his full armor, a tribute to the fallen. He had both blades strapped to his hips; Tormund having delivered Longclaw which was found during the cleanup. The sword with the green dragon pommel that had been the blade to give the final death blow to the Night King had been named Dawnfire and would become the family sword for House Targaryen. Because they would have a family, she thought with some happiness. She subtly moved her hand to her abdomen and Jon turned to look at her with cautious hope and happiness in his eyes. They stood for a long while watching the dead burn. Once most of the pyres had collapsed in on themselves, they turned and holding hands, walked back into the Keep.

Contrary to the quiet ceremony in the light of day that had sent off the dead, the victory feast that evening was a celebration of life and it was loud. Daenerys watched with amusement as the Dothraki and Free Folk tried to outdrink each other sharing their signature drinks. Tormund was heavily into his cups when he finally approached the high table and stole her husband away. She watched with amusement as they shared battle stories and embarrassing encounters. Jon’s smile was huge as he was sandwiched between Tormund, Robb, and Qhono. Dany felt a presence at her side and turned to see Sansa sitting beside her. “Your Grace.” She greeted.

“Lady Sansa.” Daenerys returned. “How are you this evening?”

“I find that I am confused. I don’t know if I should be laughing the night away or mourning another of my family members that had to be burned today.” Sansa said with a small smile. “I have a request for you, if I may?”

Dany nodded for her to continue. “Lady Brienne has served me continuously for some time now. She gave up everything to fulfill an oath sworn to my mother to protect me and Arya. She fought bravely and nobly to protect those of us in the crypts. I was wondering if she could be knighted?” Dany looked at her curiously. Sansa continued quickly. “I know it’s not traditional to have women serve as knights, but I think even Jon would vouch for her character, let alone her skill with a sword, and it’s really the one thing she could ever want, I just feel that she deserves to be rewarded for her service.” Sansa’s voice got higher and faster as she rolled through her explanation.

Dany almost giggled at her. “Of course, she can be knighted.”

“Of course?” Sansa questioned.

“Sansa, I hope by know you know that I’m anything but traditional. I have heard many accounts of Lady Brienne’s bravery and honor.” She smiled at Sansa’s bewildered face and turned to call for Jon. He turned his head at her voice and smiled as he walked over to her. “Yes, my queen?”

She smiled up at his jovial face. “My love, your sister has requested that Lady Brienne be knighted for her conduct with regards to the oath she made and kept to her mother and her bravery here at Winterfell.”

“Of course.” He nodded and agreed. Sansa burst out laughing beside them and they both turned to look at her. “You two…” She started through her laughter. “You’re going to turn this entire system on its head, aren’t you?” Jon and Dany met each other’s eyes and smiled.

“Davos!” Jon shouted over the din. Davos perked up from his position between Arya and Gendry. He hurried forward to the high table. “Yes, Your Grace.”

“We’re going to knight Lady Brienne.” Jon said in an overloud whisper. “But I don’t quite remember the words. Help me out, will you?” Dany suddenly thought it might not be a good idea to do this right now as Jon was obviously in his cups as well, but she couldn’t break the lighthearted mood around her. Davos nodded amused at Jon.

Jon stood up to his full height and grabbed her hand. She stood and followed him around the table, facing the room. Jon smiled widely and called loudly over the room. “Lady Brienne of Tarth come forward and present yourself to your King and Queen.” There was a small commotion in the back of the hall, but Brienne came forward steadily, her face one of grave concern.

Brienne looked slightly terrified and looked to Daenerys for some clue as to what was happening. She just simply smiled up at the woman. Soberly, Jon turned to the rest of the people in the hall. “I have not had the chance to do this yet as King, but I am very glad it is for someone who is so highly regarded by my family. Lady Brienne of Tarth has presented herself with unfailing honor. She has stood for justice in the face of those who would have injustice reign, and she has protected those who were innocent. Tonight, it is my great honor to give her a title worthy of her valor.” He turned toward Brienne again. “Would you kneel please, my lady?”

It was as if the sun had come out on a cloudy day in Brienne’s eyes. Dany watched as they filled with tears and she swallowed thickly. Her eyes darted behind them, no doubt looking to Sansa. She knelt before them and Jon drew Dawnfire from his belt. “I hope my lady, you will not be offended if I do this in my faith. I hold to the Old Gods.” Brienne shook her head emphatically. Davos leaned in close to his ear and fed Jon the lines. He laid his sword on her shoulder. “I, Jon of House Targaryen, first of my name and rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms do charge you by the Old Gods and the New to be brave, just, and true, and to defend the innocent above all else.” Jon moved Dawnfire over both of the woman’s shoulders. She looked up at him with a look of disbelief in her eyes and a shaking smile. “Arise Brienne of Tarth, a knight of the Seven Kingdoms.”

Brienne rose slowly looking at them both with tears in her eyes. Tormund began clapping wildly from his place near the front of the room, and quickly everyone in the hall followed suit. Dany reached back for her cup on the table and raised it above her head. “Ser Brienne of Tarth, Knight of the Seven Kingdoms.” The toast was echoed throughout the room and they all took long swigs from their cups. Jon and Dany retreated behind the high table as Brienne was surrounded by well-wishers. The feast continued on long into the night and Dany was just about to tell Jon she was headed to bed when he came to her.

“Time for bed wife?” Jon asked with a soft smile. She nodded gratefully and they snuck out of the Great Hall back towards their rooms. They undressed slowly, Jon still taking care in face of his injury. When they finally climbed naked under the furs, he reached for her forcefully. They made love that night carefully and slowly, worshiping each other and giving thanks that they were alive and well and in each other’s arms. There was still much to do when they returned to King’s Landing. They needed to bring justice to the last of the Lannisters and establish their rule. A coronation was in order even, but tonight they were not King and Queen. They were simply Jon and Dany, reconnecting and feeling life pulse through them.

After another week of celebrations and rest, it was time for everyone to return home. The few remaining Night’s Watch members returned to Castle Black to salvage what they could. Scouts were sent to Deepwater Motte, Last Hearth, and Karhold all of which were north of Winterfell. Tormund rejected the offer of scouts to The Dreadfort saying that the Free Folk would handle any problems they found there. The Hornwoods, Manderlys, Cerwyns, and Talharts, all returned home to weather out the winter. The night before Jon and Dany were to leave, they found themselves in the presence of just Jon’s family.

“It might be some time before we see Winterfell again.” Daenerys said. “With things in King’s Landing needing to be settled and country to run.”

Jon smiled slightly. “I’m sure the dragons will oblige us occasionally.”

“I for one hope they do.” Robb said. “I don’t have any intention of relocating.”

“We were hoping Sansa might take us up on an offer to come south.” Dany hedged, watching Sansa out of the corner of her eye. Sure enough, the redhead turned to look at them in shock and fear. Dany watched as she swallowed hard. “We need a Master of Whispers, and you seem rather adept at running communications and planning quietly.”

All eyes in the room were on the very uncomfortable woman. “I’ll think about it, Your Grace. I swore I would never go south again after Cersei, but now that she’s gone…maybe.”

“Well, Arya will at least have to make a trip.” Jon said with a chuckle. The youngest remaining Stark eyed her king with some level of suspicion.

“And why is that brother?” She asked.

“Because Gendry was legitimized and we’ll be giving him Storm’s End.” Dany said cheekily. “And you do seem rather attached to him.”

Robb snorted into his cup at the mention of their little sister’s obvious relationship with the blacksmith. Sansa smiled ruthlessly as she looked at her sister. She nudged the young woman gently. “Look at you, ending up a lady anyway.” Arya shot her a dark look but didn’t deny any of the claims leveled against her.

“Either way, we would appreciate the presence of all of you at our coronation.” Daenerys said.

The Starks all nodded their agreement. They sat and passed the night in familial revelry. At some point, Gendry entered with Davos pushing his chair and Arya graciously accepted their teasing when she immediately pulled him close to her. Ser Brienne stood sentinel at the door as she normally did when Sansa was in the room. Despite their efforts, she refused to leave her post. Dany had to admit that she was sad to leave the comradery behind and return to the machinations of the south.

***

The trip back to King’s Landing took much longer as Daenerys and Jon had decided to ride along with their victorious forces instead of riding the dragons home. The weeks on horseback were hard on a pregnant Daenerys and Jon suggested several times for her to fly ahead, but she was determined to see her kingdoms and their people. As they made their way south, large parts of the army broke off. At the base of the large mountains of the Vale, Harrold Hardyng led his men toward the Eyrie to report to Robin Arryn. The closer they rode to the Riverlands, the more nervous Daenerys got. This kingdom had lost their liege lord and most of their men. The few remaining soldiers were joined by the Lannister men who would continue beyond the Riverlands to their homes in the Westerlands, all offenses against the crown forgiven in light of their service at Winterfell. Dickon Tarly and his men from the Reach continued with them to the capital, he would go home to Horn Hill from there.

Dany and Jon decided to camp at the Trident just before their last stretch down to King’s Landing. The Dothraki and Unsullied seemed just as anxious as them to be done marching. The camp they erected was still simple, knowing the last push to the city would still be at least a week. They both walked along the river’s edge for a long time one evening, reminiscing on the events that brought them to where they were today. “Do you ever wonder what our lives would have been like had Rhaegar won here that day?” Dany asked her husband softly.

He smiled wistfully at her. “Surprisingly I don’t really think about much other than the fact that I might have had two parents who adored me. I couldn’t care less whether or not I was a prince or the heir. I do know that regardless, I would’ve ended up with you.”

She smiled as he pulled her toward him by the waist. “Is that so?” She asked playfully, looking up into his gray eyes.

He nodded solemnly. “You and I were always meant to be Dany. I don’t think anything would have changed that.” She smiled at his earnest declaration. She placed a palm on his cheek, and they leaned forward until their foreheads rested against one another. Jon subtly moved his hand to rest on her abdomen over their growing child. At this point, Dany wasn’t quite showing through her thick layers, but there was an obvious bump beginning. She couldn’t wait to hold their prince or princess in her arms and see the perfect person they had made. Dany sighed contentedly standing with her small family.

Their entrance into King’s Landing a week later was triumphant. Word of this new Battle for the Dawn had apparently spread quickly throughout the Seven Kingdoms. As they entered the city through the recently rebuilt gate on the western side of the city, she couldn’t help but laugh at the flowers carved into the new stone. The Tyrells had claimed the newly built entrance to the city. Dany didn’t mind, after all it was the Tyrells fronting the gold for the repairs. No doubt the gate would lose the moniker of the Lion Gate and gain the name the Flower Gate.

Their ride through the city was much different than the first time her armies had entered the capital. People greeted them happily, Targaryen banners hung from buildings and the people gasped as the three dragons roared their presence in the sky. People were out on the street and smiles graced their faces. The stone streets below them were clean and the air smelled fresh, King’s Landing once again a shining jewel. They didn’t stop as they made their way to the Red Keep. The lower courtyard was lined with the smallfolk that were still inhabiting the castle waiting for construction to be complete in the new Flea Bottom. Dany smiled widely at the kind reception.

She turned and released her army, many of whom looked grateful to be free to rest. The Dothraki and Unsullied melted back into the city, perhaps returning to their camps, she wasn’t sure. Qhono and Zhowo stayed close, as well as Greyworm and Red Flea. Davos climbed down from his horse, and Sam awkwardly dismounted. Missandei took her normal place at her side. She smiled at her commanders, advisors and husband as they entered the keep.

The next day Daenerys found herself and Jon standing before the city’s main square at the base of the pile of rubble that had once been the Sept of Baelor. Lady Olenna Tyrell, the Hand of the Crown stood to the side with the rest of their advisors. Before she and Jon stood Jaime and Tyrion Lannister. Both of them were filthy and while Jaime had his head bowed in submission and dejection, Tyrion stared up at her with fire in his eyes. She couldn’t find it in herself to not feel at least a little bit guilty for Tyrion. He had been a good friend, and a good advisor in some respects. His downfall had been his weakness for his brother.

Jon didn’t feel the least bit guilty about the current situation, he had told her the night before as they lay in bed. Tyrion had made his decisions and innocent people had died in his quest to save an arguably horrible person. The reality was, there was no saving him. He had already been unpopular in Westeros, but the knowledge that he released information that led to the attack on Flea Bottom had left him public enemy number one. If she and Jon let him go, there would be a revolt against them. Tyrion had left them in an impossible situation.

She cleared her throat and moved forward. “Jaime and Tyrion Lannister. You both stand condemned of murder and treason. The punishment for these crimes is death.” Dany had decided she would not allow for any statements from the two men. They both had sealed their fates long ago and there was nothing more to say. “May you find mercy with the Gods.” On her cue, Drogon landed directly behind her. There were shocked gasps throughout the entire crowd before her. She took one last look at her former advisor and friend. Swallowing thickly, she commanded, “Dracarys.” House Lannister met its fiery end in the city the family had decimated.

The next month passed in a blur as Daenerys prepared for the coronation. A council for the city was set up where Sterlan Wagstaff was elected the leader of the smallfolk in King’s Landing. On that council sat members from all parts of the city that came together to speak of the issues facing the city and then Sterlan and then presented those issues before either her or Jon. It turned out to be a very effective way to make sure the smallfolk were getting the things they needed. There was a plan to create a larger council over time that would include the voices of the smallfolk from all around Westeros.

Dany and Jon had talked for a long time about the Iron Throne. Both had decided it was a relic of a time now gone when Targaryens ruled with absolute power, crushing people beneath them. Neither of them wanted to be that kind of a ruler. Deciding to begin a new era with the Targaryen restoration, they had the Iron Throne destroyed. Viserion ended up melting it down, mainly because he was the only dragon that could fit into the Great Hall through the doors. Even then he got stuck and had to be slowly backed out of the room by both Dany and Jon helping him.

Instead of the Iron Throne, there now sat two seats on the dais above the room, waiting for their monarchs to be seated. The new seats were representations of all seven of the kingdoms. The wood making up most of the throne was from the North. Wood carvers from Dorne had painstakingly carved ornate patterns into the seats. Metalworkers from the Stormlands had created the metal frames holding the entire structure together. The Reach had provided the rich fabrics that lined the seats and backs of the thrones. The Westerlands had sent gold to be inlaid in the patterns carved. The Riverlands send the flat river stones that made up the base of the throne. The Vale had given precious gems that were pressed into the seats. The final touch had been added in the form of dragonglass from Dragonstone, creating gentle spires coming up from the seats a slight homage to Targaryen history. The seats were magnificent and would stand as the thrones for all Seven Kingdoms. They were purposefully not carved with any sigils, signifying that the ruler of Westeros may not always be a Targaryen.

On coronation day, nearly every noble in Westeros was crowded in the Great Hall of the Red Keep. As Dany and Jon walked side by side up the aisle toward the thrones, she met the eye of so many of the nobles that helped them get there today. The Reach lords who had all fought at Highgarden with them and helped take King’s Landing. The Dornish headed by Arianne who still remained its own principality while still submitting to the throne. She saw Lady Roslin Tully, Edmure’s wife who she had met when she arrived a few days previously, holding her young son, the Lord of Riverrun. Robin Arryn stood with Harrold Hardyng at his side, the two cousins standing together at peace, the blond man having taken to helping Robin instead of undermining him.

Finally, near the front stood their two primary allies. House Stark and House Tyrell had proven themselves to be loyal and faithful servants of the crown and were celebrated as such by having the prominent view in the space. Robb, Sansa, and Arya Stark stood on the side of the hall closest to Jon’s throne. They stood proudly all with wide smiles on their faces. She was happily surprised to see Gendry standing tall next to Arya. On her side of the Great Hall stood Willas and Garlan Tyrell. The former had been working tirelessly with his grandmother learning all he could about running the country. Missandei, Greyworm, Red Flea, Qhono, and Zhowo all smiled next to the Tyrells. At the top of the dais stood their Hand, Olenna Tyrell was as content as Dany had ever seen her. She stood next to Davos, who while not officially the Hand of the Crown, was still Jon’s primary advisor. They stood next to the crowns waiting to be placed on their heads.

Daenerys and Jon turned to look out on the vast crowd. Smallfolk were present in droves and in the crowd, she spotted Sterlan Wagstaff, his arm curled around Clara. She smiled at the scene before her and squeezed her husband’s hand hard. He looked the picture of royalty today with his black gambeson embossed with dragon scales while his cloak was held together with direwolf head clasps. His cloak was similar to her marriage cloak, a black velvet embroidered by Sansa with a three headed dragon and direwolf. His swords rested at his hips and his black hair was left to fall around his face. She was dressed in similar colors, the black and red of their house her cloak black with her family’s red dragon. Her hair had been braided into one long plait, a symbol of her victory and her growing baby bump pressed out from the front of her dress.

They smiled at each other as two children came forward. A young boy from the Stormlands and a little girl from the Westerlands would crown the new King and Queen. Both were representatives of the smallfolk and the new world she was going to build with Jon at her side. She had finally done it. Reclaimed her family’s throne, their seat of power. As the crowns were placed on their heads and they were announced before all of Westeros, she felt a small movement in her abdomen and Dany couldn’t help but think how happy she was to not be the last Targaryen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare yourselves. The epilogue coming up on Sunday may be the fluffiest thing I have ever written. Like pure tooth-rotting sweet fluff.


	25. Jon - Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five years after their coronation, Jon and his family unite to celebrate his nameday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys!!
> 
> I can't believe this is the end! 😭😭😭
> 
> I've learned so much from this, my first full fanfic. I've grown as a writer and a reader. This fic wasn't perfect and I'm sure if I go back and reread it, I'd probably change a lot of things, but it was my first and will always be my baby. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone for your kudos and comments, all of your encouragement. Enjoy the happy fluff of the epilogue! 💖💖
> 
> Thanks AbstractlySydney for all your hard work!

Jon stretched languidly under the furs. His fingertips brushed the soft skin of his wife and he smiled. Nothing was better than waking to her beautiful face. He turned on his side and wrapped his arms around her tiny frame. She giggled as he started to place kisses all over her shoulders and back, anywhere he could reach. “Good morning.” She said with laughter in her voice.

“Always is with you, love.” Jon answered honestly. She turned over in his arms, so he came face to face with her. Light twinkled in her violet eyes and she leaned into him and gave him a proper kiss, their lips meeting and sealing perfectly. They kissed for long moments, the temperature rising as their tongues tangled. They wrapped their arms around one another, hands running over each other’s skin. Jon’s lips left hers and started kissing down her neck until he found the sweet spot where her shoulder met her neck and she arched into him. He took advantage of the position and cupped one of her breasts, softly pinching her nipple and then replacing his fingers with his mouth, sucking strongly.

Dany moaned as he continued to work her breasts. Her fingers tangled in his hair and he moved lower down her body. He softly kissed down her abdomen where another child grew. It was early still, her body not showing many signs, but Sam had confirmed it a few days before. He licked his way down to her slick folds. Laying himself down between her legs, he moved his fingers into her entrance. Her fingers pulled roughly on his hair as he continued to work her into a frenzy. He moved his tongue into her folds, feasting on her as if he were starved. It didn’t take long between his tongue and fingers for her to come apart beneath him and he smiled as she tugged him upward.

She kissed him with fervor, not caring that she could taste herself on him, if anything it just spurred her on more. He grabbed her restless thigh and pulled it to the side so he could settle his body between her legs. He backed off from their kiss to look her in the eye as he pushed into her. He watched as her pupils blew out, her eyes going dark. No matter how many times they did this, he’d never tire of the look of wonder on her face as they fit perfectly together. He grabbed her hips and pushed up the pace nearly pounding into her as she clutched at him and moaned his name. Jon suddenly rolled them, so he was on his back and she sat astride him. She pressed her hands into his scarred chest and moved her hips at a fast pace. He watched her as she rode out her pleasure, her silver hair falling down her back and her body covered in whisker burns. Before long she was calling out his name as she came apart again and he thrust up into her chasing his own release. He found it a few thrusts after hers.

His wife collapsed onto his chest, breathing hard. He wrapped his arms around her and ran his hand through her tangled mass of hair. She lifted up enough to look him in the eyes smiling. “Happy Name Day, my love.” She said sweetly. He smiled at her and gave her a soft kiss on her lips. “It certainly is now.” He smirked.

She laughed and rolled off of him to land on his side in the pile of furs. The wind rustled the walls of the tent around them and brought a welcome breeze into the space. They had slept in the nearby keep the night before, but they were both uneasy and decided to stay in their Dothraki tent instead. Even though the majority of the Khalasar had sailed back to Essos, about five thousand had decided to stay and make their home in Westeros and anywhere they went, they still erected a tent for their Khaleesi. “Do you think it’s haunted?” Dany asked quietly, thinking about the castle she refused to spend another night in.

Jon ran his hand up her shivering back. “If any castle is, it’s probably Harrenhal.” Jon said. “Also, I doubt whatever ghosts are in there were very happy to see Targaryens.”

For Jon’s name day this year, Daenerys had decided a tourney was in order. She thought it would be hilarious to have one at Harrenhal seeing as for all they knew that was where the relationship between Rhaegar and Lyanna began, resulting in Jon’s birth. Jon went along with it, just shaking his head when she started planning the event that would last for nearly a week. They had arrived and stayed in the chambers that had been prepared for them the night before last and both of them had felt so uneasy they had quickly transferred to the tent. The tourney was set to officially start tomorrow, after the feast for him tonight. He would compete in the sword melee, but that was it. Jon never had a desire to joust and he was shite with a spear or hammer.

“We’d better get up and moving before we’re interrupted.” Jon said.

“He’ll be too distracted by everything else going on to come and find us, love.” Dany returned. Just as she finished the thought, they both heard an excited little voice outside their tent, screaming for his mama and papa. Dany giggled as Davos’s rough voice sounded right after the cries. “You’ve got about two minutes, Your Graces! That’s all I can buy you!”

Jon laughed as he leapt from the bed and started dressing while Dany slipped a robe over her slim form. Jon was just washing his face when the tent flaps parted and a wild streak entered the space, racing right for him. He grunted as the blur banged into his legs. Little arms wrapped around his leg and he looked down into bright violet eyes that matched Dany’s. “Happy Name Day Papa!” His son screamed at him. Jon reached down and lifted his eldest child into his arms. “Thank you.” He exclaimed back before tickling his belly. He giggled and squirmed in his arms.

Five-year-old Jaeron Targaryen was the spitting image of his father with his dark curls and long face with the exception of his violet eyes which were the same shape and color of his mother’s. He also had all of her fire. Constantly on the run, the crown prince was an endless ball of energy. He reminded Jon of the child Bran once was, always trying something new, quickly running anywhere he could. His attention was quickly diverted to his other parent in the room. “Mama!” he screamed. She laughed and came over to them and kissed his cheek.

“Jaeron, why don’t you go with Papa and Davos to see the tourney grounds while I get ready for the day.” Dany suggested. The little boy looked thrilled by the prospect of running around the warriors and knights assembled and turned to Jon with huge eyes. He just nodded at the little boy and winked. Jon looked up at his wife and swiftly kissed her. “I’ll see you later.” She said with a saucy grin. “Tease.” He said quickly. He would have been perfectly happy to stay there for another round, but he felt like he should probably rescue Davos from his energetic son.

He exited the tent to see a flurry of activity. The tourney would include a jousting tournament that had several rounds and included Westerosi, Dothraki, and even some foreign participants. The jousting would provide entertainment every day as well as the final victory on the last day. The sword melee would be the day before the last round of the joust, the second most important contest at the tourney. They had also decided to add a spear melee for the Unsullied and a few of the knights. It would be the first of the melees. Jon was especially interested to see a few of the Dornish men against the former slave soldiers. The middle one that would take place would be a free weapons melee. Jon expected to see swords, arakhs, and war hammers present in that fight. He knew Gendry had entered with his hammer and Qhono had been bragging for weeks that he would take home the trophy for that melee. The archery contest was the largest of the competitions and would take place on the day between the free weapon melee and the sword competition. It meant that nearly every soldier in the Seven Kingdoms was here as it was the first large tourney the King and Queen had ever hosted.

Jon, Jaeron, and Davos exited the Dothraki camp and moved toward the Unsullied area. Jaeron watched with interest as the men practiced their spear techniques. The three of them stopped to watch Red Flea battle another Unsullied. Despite having lost his arm, Red Flea had learned to fight ferociously with just the one he had and remained on guard duty for the royal family. He was a particular favorite of Jaeron and the little boy cheered as the Unsullied commander bested the other man. Greyworm and Missandei, along with a large portion of the Unsullied had left Westeros a few years ago, sailing to the Summer Isles. Dany received frequent missives from them. They were settled on Naath and were helping destroy what was left of the dwindling slave trade. Dany had cried for weeks when they left, heartbroken, but she wished them well.

They continued walking into the Westerosi part of the camp around the tourney grounds and Jon groaned out loud as Willas Tyrell nearly ran toward him. “Your Grace!” Jon smiled tightly at the man. “Yes, Lord Tyrell.” Jon said drily. It wasn’t that Jon didn’t like Willas Tyrell, in fact he enjoyed his company immensely most days, but when he ran toward Jon, he always knew he was going to have to solve a problem.

“The Free Folk arrived last night, and they have taken the ground meant to be the Vale practice grounds and now the two groups are facing off in between their tents!” Jon refrained from rolling his eyes. Willas had been the Hand of the Crown since his grandmother’s death nearly a year before but had yet to learn to calm his anxiety. He was a capable man, just quick to panic. He wondered where Sansa was, she always seemed to be able to calm her high-strung husband.

Willas had fallen for Sansa quickly when she decided to stay permanently at the Red Keep with them after the coronation. To this day she still ran her spy rings consisting mostly of women and had played an important role in building the smallfolk councils across Westeros. Willas had tried to court her for nearly two years before she finally gave him the time of day and they seemed to get on fine for the next year. Finally, the time came that Willas grew enough of a spine to ask Jon for her hand. Jon had taken great pleasure in denying him. Five times. It wasn’t until the sixth attempt that Daenerys finally stepped in explaining to Willas that Jon couldn’t give him Sansa’s hand because they had promised her a long time ago that they would never force her into a marriage and if he wanted to marry Sansa, he needed to ask Sansa. He’d done just that, and she’d said yes, and Jon had berated Dany for ruining his fun.

The men moved quickly toward the conflict on the far side of camp. Even from a distance Jon could see the wild red hair of Tormund Giantsbane. Most of the Free Folk had remained at the Dreadfort, surprisingly getting along with all of their neighbors. There were still some major disagreements between them and some of the noble houses according to Robb, but overall, the transition to them living south of the Wall was going much better than anyone could have hoped. After the Battle for the Dawn, the Free Folk had also expanded up to Last Hearth and the Gift. The entire area was now populated by just tribes of Free Folk and towns of smallfolk. No noble houses had stepped up to claim the area and Robb had seen no point in pushing the issue. Jon always suspected the Dothraki would do really well up there, but they insisted it was too cold for them.

Speaking of Robb, Jon smiled as he reached the small battle occurring and saw Robb standing between the Free Folk and several irate Knights of the Vale. “Uncle Robb!” Jaeron screamed, announcing their presence to the entire group. Everyone seemed to stop at once as they noticed their King standing and watching their conflict. The men of the Vale immediately bowed to him, while the faces of the Free Folk lit up upon seeing him.

“King Crow!” Tormund shouted. Jon couldn’t help but smile at his old friend.

“What trouble are you starting now, Giantsbane?” Jon asked.

“What makes you think I started it?” The red-haired man asked with a large grin.

Jon crossed his arms over his chest. “Because you always start it Tormund.”

Tormund laughed and walked toward Jon, enveloping him in a large hug. When they separated, Tormund slapped Jon’s shoulders as he rolled his eyes at the Vale men behind him. “They’re pissed because apparently we’re in the way of their precious little lord practicing with his bow and arrows. The little man doesn’t even make his own arrows, and he shoots them at unmoving targets. How hard can that be?” Tormund laughed.

From behind him came the little lord Tormund was referring to. Robin Arryn wasn’t so little anymore, but he was still pretty slight. Instead of the foolish young child he had been, a prideful teenage lord stood before them. He swaggered up to them and bowed shallowly before Jon. “Your Grace.” He simpered. “I hope we can find a solution to this problem.” He smiled sneeringly at Tormund.

Jon resisted laughing in the young lord’s face. He could see behind him Harrold Hardyng shaking his head in frustration. “I was thinking there is a rather easy solution to this problem.” Jon started. “You could practice in the empty field behind your men’s tents.”

Robin sputtered as he looked between Jon and Tormund. “But this space here is right outside my tent!” He said outraged.

“Not anymore.” Jon said. “We need the space for the Free Folk, and you have plenty of space behind your tents. I do look forward to your showing in the archery competition. I’ve heard you’re quite accomplished.”

Robin didn’t seem to know what to do so he awkwardly nodded his head and turned to his tent. Harrold Hardyng met his eye and just shrugged, hobbling into the tent behind his cousin. Davos huffed next to him. “That lad is more trouble than he’s worth. Last month he sent a raven complaining that if the Northern ships were going to sail by the Fingers, they could at least trade with them. I just told him that he needed to make trade deals, that’s not my job.” Davos was their Master of Ships on the small council and dealt with small disputes that usually involved the anarchy currently ruling in the Iron Islands, but every once in a while, another problem popped up.

“He is rather insufferable.” Willas agreed. “I don’t know how Hardyng puts up with him.”

Jon smirked at them both. “If you have other things to attend to, I’m going to practice with Robb, and I’m sure Jaeron would like to spend time with his Uncle Robb, so you’re free to go.” Both men nodded and snuck away while Jaeron was occupied watching the giant red-haired man in front of him. Jon looked at Tormund to see he was looking down at Jon’s feet and staring at Jaeron who was staring right back.

“Baby Crow!” Tormund exclaimed loudly. Jaeron yelped and hid behind Jon’s legs. Tormund laughed loudly. Jon rolled his eyes and moved toward Robb.

Jaeron overcame his fright of Tormund once he saw Robb again. The little boy threw himself at his uncle who caught him up and hugged him close. They had visited the North the year before for Robb’s wedding and Jaeron had found a kindred spirit in his uncle, the two becoming as thick as thieves. Jon hoped that someday soon he’d see Robb with his own son as his wife Raina was heavily pregnant with their child. Robb smiled widely at Jon as he approached. “Happy Name Day!” He said loudly. Jon just chuckled and nodded. “Thank you. Where’s Raina?” He asked after his sister by law.

Robb’s smile grew. “She stayed back in Winterfell. She’s a little too far along to make the trip down. Her family is there with her, and I’ll probably leave as soon as you’re done in the sword melee to get back.” Raina had been from a family in Winter town just outside of Winterfell. She worked as a servant in Winterfell until she caught Robb’s eye. They had had a torrid affair and at first Jon had thought she’d just be another of his conquests. Sansa had been the one to call him on his behavior and Robb insisted it was more than just someone to warm his bed, but nothing could come of it with her being lowborn and him being the Lord of Winterfell. He whined about it for months in his letters until Jon had told him just to marry the girl if he was going to carry on. House Stark didn’t need him to make any alliances with his marriage, they were extremely well connected through Jon, Sansa, and Arya’s marriages and young noble ladies were hard to come by in the North after the Great War. Now they were blissfully happy with their first child on the way.

“Well make sure to tell her that we missed having her here.” Jon said jovially. Robb nodded. “But speaking of the sword melee, I was hoping you would spar with me? It’s been a while since I met someone different on the field and Ser Brienne and I have a bet on which one of us will take the trophy.”

They spent most of the day amongst the Northmen sparring with Robb and others. He was hot and sweaty after several hours. Larence Hornwood spent a long time with Jaeron, working on his hold on the bow and arrows he’d been starting to pick up on. He was starting to pick up a practice sword when Jon spotted them. Jon corrected his grip and taught him how to balance with the heavy blade that was much too big for him at his age. He smiled as his son tried very hard to hold up the sword.

Movement to his left caught his eye and he looked up to see the smiling face of his wife. Her face was filled with happiness as she watched him and Jaeron together. He walked over to meet her, and she stepped into him and gave him a soft kiss. “Hello.” She said softly.

“Hello my love.” He said just as softly back to her.

“I came to collect you for the feast.” She leaned back and looked at him. “It’s a good thing I did too because it looks like you need to clean up before it.” He smirked at her. “Sorry, love. I wanted to get some practice in. I can’t have Ser Brienne outdoing me.”

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about Jon. You spend hours every day in the yard with the men.” Dany responded. It was true. Jon spent several hours every day, not because there was any conflict, but because he wanted to be ready at all times.

“Mama!” Jaeron exclaimed, running up to them. “Larence taught me how to fire an arrow, and papa let me pick up a sword!” He said with a toothy grin.

“I saw, love!” She said, bending down to meet him at eye level. “Now why don’t you go say goodbye to your Uncle Robb, you’ll see him later, but you need to get ready for papa’s feast.” Jaeron nodded quickly and ran to say goodbye to Robb and made sure to say goodbye to Larence who bowed to the young prince. He then ran back to his parents, grabbing one hand from each of them and walking between them back towards their tents amongst the Dothraki.

Jon turned to look at his radiant wife. “Where’s our other wild one?” He asked. She grinned. “She’s with her aunt Sansa who is using her to avoid her husband.”

Jon rolled his eyes. “Why is she avoiding him? He’s so much more insufferable when she’s not talking to him.”

Daenerys giggled. “I think he’s gotten much better.” She laughed outright when she saw Jon’s face in reaction to her words. She sobered after a few moments and spilled the secret. “Sansa is with child but she’s afraid to tell him and give him another thing to worry about.”

Jon sighed. “Do you ever think he might not have the disposition for his job?”

“He’s very good at his job.” Dany pointed out. “We avoid a lot of headaches because of that man so if we have to put up with Willas Tyrell’s nerves, we will.” Jon nodded in acquiescence.

They arrived back at their tent and one of their nannies came to collect Jaeron to get him ready for the feast. Jon entered the tent to find a hot bath waiting for him. Dany took great pleasure in undressing him and then helping to wash the sweat from his body. He then took great pleasure in fucking her quickly on one of the tables, her dress hiked up and her hands on his ass as he thrusted into her.

Jon and Dany exited their tent dressed in their finery and found that their children were waiting for them a short distance away. Jon laughed watching Jaeron running literal circles around Willas and Sansa and then groaned as he looked at his three-year-old daughter. Rhaeanna was the perfect image of her mother, a mini-Daenerys, but she was a wolf through and through. Nothing made that more obvious than her current situation, standing next to her constant companion Ghost with her hands buried in his muddy fur. He watched as her nanny pulled her away from the wolf to see that her hands were covered in the same mud from the wolf’s fur. The older woman wiped the infant’s hands who looked up and spotted her parents. She immediately held her arms out to Jon. Rhae adored her father, and the feeling was entirely mutual. He took her from the woman and held her on his hip and she babbled at him happily. Together with their children and Willas and Sansa, Jon and Daenerys entered the feast prepared to celebrate his name day.

They spent the night celebrating with their family, all of the Starks seated with them, including Arya and Gendry and their newborn son. Gendry Baratheon had become Lord of Storm’s End and had transformed the Stormlands. Most of the Dothraki and Unsullied that stayed in Westeros settled in the plains near Storm’s End. Arya and Gendry hosted them often and it was no secret they preferred their company over “pampered and prissy lords” as Arya said. Jon knew they had a certain reputation for wildness in court and there were several noble families in the neighboring Reach that were uncomfortable with the arrangement, but Jon just rolled his eyes. No one was going to tell his baby sister what to do.

After the initial meal was eaten Jon spent some time walking around and greeting guests. There were several attendees that Jon didn’t get to see very often or hadn’t seen in years. Both Ser Horas Redwyne and Ser Gareth Fossoway were present and Jon spent a good deal of time catching up with both knights who were competing in the joust at the tourney.

That night Dany and Jon both fell asleep quickly after the long day and rich food. The tourney began the next day, and as the hosts it was important for them to open the festivities. They gave a short speech in the morning and watched a few of the jousting matches. Neither Jon nor Dany were very big fans of the sport, so they quickly left Willas and Sansa to spectate for them. Jon instead went to watch the spear melee. He stood with Robb and Tormund to watch the event. “Are you two actually competing in anything while you’re here?” Jon asked.

Robb shook his head. “Raina forbade it. She said the last thing she needed was for her husband to lose a body part so close to fatherhood.” Jon was happy that Robb felt secure in his relationship and impending fatherhood. He knew Robb still had a lot of anxiety about the loss of his first wife and child and he could easily shut down, but his wife appeared to handle him well.

Tormund grunted. “This tourney thing makes no sense. If you want to see if you’re the best, you fight to the death. Stupid tradition.” He scoffed.

“So, I take it that you will be competing, Tormund?” Jon asked.

The man smiled wide. “Tomorrow with my axe in the one where you can use any weapon. I’ve been waiting to take on one of those Dothraki fuckers.” Jon made a mental note to be sure to set the rules very clearly tomorrow before the melee, he didn’t want to have to drag dead bodies from the ring because Tormund didn’t understand the concept of first blood.

They all turned back to the ring as the spear melee began. Several Unsullied stood in the ring including Red Flea, but Jon was surprised by how many Westerosi were also present. Several Dornishmen were squaring off and even a few knights from the other kingdoms. The fight lasted for nearly an hour. It came down to a stoic Unsullied soldier and a fast-moving Dornishman. Red Flea had been pulled a little more than halfway through, but he could tell the guard had earned the respect of many being able to fight so many with only one arm. In another five minutes, Jon could tell that the Unsullied was going to win. The other man had quick moves, but he lacked patience, and endurance. Sure enough, he made a quick move to get over the man’s shield and the Unsullied struck like a snake and nicked the Dornishman. He drew blood, and the match was over. The crowd clapped enthusiastically for the champion who was introduced as Brown Snake.

Jon and Dany had retired to their tent for the night and were laying naked and spent in each other’s arms when he told her the results. “Brown Snake of the Unsullied won the spear today.”

She turned her head to look at him. “Are you surprised?” She grinned. He shook his head. “No, I just thought you’d like to know. Everyone was very complimentary.”

“Good.” She said with a smile and drifted off to sleep.

The next day was much the same but instead of watching the jousting, Jon and Robb took their spots early to watch the mixed weapons melee. This fight had drawn a huge crowd. In the ring were several Dothraki including Qhono, their arakhs ready to go. Tormund stood in the ring with his huge axe and a big grin on his face and Gendry was wielding his hammer. There were a few swordsmen mixed in, he was excited to see how they’d fair. The judge for the melee got up to give the rules. “A fighter is considered retired if his blood is drawn by an opponent. This is NOT a fight to the death.” The man gave a stern look to the Dothraki and the few Free Folk in the ring.

The match was complete chaos. At some point, the Free Folk decided to team up against a group of mountain men from the Vale who used hatchets. Meanwhile Arya was screaming her head off from the sidelines as Gendry took on several opponents who no doubt had targeted him because he was one of the few lords in the ring. Just as loud was Arianne on the other side of the ring. She was cheering loudly for Qhono who was attacking his fellow Dothraki first. It was the worst kept secret in Westeros that Qhono was Arianne’s regular bedmate. There had even been several rumors of a possible child between them. No one dared say anything to either of them though for fear of the bloodrider.

The fight came to down to the end and it was Gendry, Qhono, and Tormund circling each other. All three of them were shouting insults at each other and crowd was getting in on it. There didn’t seem to be a favored winner. Unfortunately for Gendry, Tormund and Qhono were so determined to meet each other in one-on-one combat that they targeted him first. He held out for a few minutes but finally took a slice from Qhono’s arakh and moved out of the ring before Tormund could hit him as well. He seemed good natured about it, standing and laughing with Arya on the sidelines. The fight between Tormund and Qhono was furious. Both men landed blows, but nothing that drew blood. Qhono was fast, but Tormund had brute strength on his side. Qhono went in to slice Tormund on the arm and the giant man took advantage of the Dothraki warrior’s wide stance, kicking out his leg. Tormund raised his axe and brought it down fast on Qhono and Jon watched on in horror. Arianne screamed, but at the last second Tormund stopped the axe and with a huge grin gave the man on the ground a shallow cut on the cheek, drawing blood and claiming victory. Tormund crowed to the crowd for a long moment but finally turned and exchanged words with Qhono. Both men laughed and slapped each other on the back.

Tormund walked over to Jon and Robb with a more defined swagger than normal. “Better win your fight now, crow. Wouldn’t want everyone to know that you’re not the true talent from the North.”

Jon shook his head and Robb laughed beside him.

He spent most of the evening with his family. Dany and the children kept his mind off the nerves for his upcoming melee the day after the next. Dany sat on the bed of furs reading reports while he played with the children. Rhaeanna screamed with delight as he chased her around their large tent until Ghost ran interference and cut him off. He reprimanded the wolf, but he couldn’t stay mad as his tiny daughter collapsed next to the wolf out of breath. He laid on the floor with them only to be tackled by the dark-haired demon that was his son. They wrestled on the floor for a while until Willas came rushing into the tent. He looked between him and Dany on the bed as if he couldn’t decide which of them to go to. Jon took pity on him and nodded toward Dany.

He went to the queen and handed her the scroll that he had just received. “You have got to be joking!” Daenerys shouted from her perch. “How have they even lasted this long? Why can’t they figure this out?”

Jon rolled his eyes as he realized that it must be something involving the Iron Islands. The region had been in chaos ever since the death of all of the Greyjoys. They had leader after leader, but none seemed to stick. Once one gained power he was killed and the next took his place. Jon never would have guessed that the Greyjoys held the key to keeping the derelict kingdom afloat. “What is it with them now?” Jon asked.

“Another assassination.” Dany said. “I don’t know how much longer we can let this go on before we step in. The Iron Islands are a part of Westeros.”

Jon rolled his eyes. “Will it keep until the tourney is done?” He asked Willas. The man nodded hesitantly. “The last thing I want to do is deal with another rebellion like the one Robert and Ned had to quash. Write them back and tell them they have a month to solve the issue or our dragons will solve it for them. Without a strong leader they’ll continue to raid the coast and the western regions shouldn’t have to deal with that.”

Dany sighed. “I agree. We’re going to have to take action. Tell them this is their last warning.”

Willas nodded and exited the tent. Jon exchanged a look with Dany and she just smiled. He stood and scooped up Jaeron with one arm and Rhaeanna with the other carrying them both to the bed. Dany set her papers aside and the family of four curled up together.

Jon groaned when he woke up to a foot in his face the next morning. He had intended to take the children back to their tent the night before, but they must have all fallen asleep. He gently grabbed the foot currently pressing into his cheek and looked down at its owner. Jaeron was snoring softly with his mouth wide open. At some point in the night Daenerys had obviously saved Rhaeanna from her crazy brother. She was wrapped up in her mother’s arms and laying on her chest.

After a morning of wrangling their children and giving them back to the care of their nannies, Jon found himself sitting next to his wife watching the archery competition. It took place in several rounds and Jon was surprised to see Robin Arryn survive the first two. He was less surprised when he threw a tantrum after losing in the third. He could hear Dany’s soft giggles next to him as the young lord stormed off the field. The victor ended up being a young man from the Reach who lived in Oldtown. There was some grumbling amongst the knights, but he and Dany had made it very clear that all were welcome to participate in the tourney.

The next morning dawned and it was the day of the sword competition. Apparently, the joust had also become interesting as some early favorites had been eliminated. Jon didn’t bother going to watch though, he had his own battle to worry about. He didn’t know why he was nervous. Maybe because if he was fighting with a sword it was because there was a need, not for show. It made him anxious to think he could be made a fool of in the ring. His nerves became even more strained as he was announced before the largest crowd at the tourney. Even the jousting matches had been pushed back so that everyone could attend and watch their king battle the best swordsmen in the realm. Jon wasn’t a fool, he knew that people considered him the best and a hero, but this was an entirely different arena than he was used to. As he walked into the ring it seemed as if every person he’d ever met was in the audience. Even Jaeron was seated next to his mother to watch his father in the ring. He tried to exude confidence as he entered.

His opponents were all Westerosi from a variety of different regions of their kingdoms. Some looked nervous while others appeared reverent. The rules were laid out and they were the same as the other melees had been. First blood and you were out. Jon already had an advantage with his armor being Valyrian steel. It was also allowed to use two blades. Jon had both Longclaw and Dawnfire with him, but never really fought with both unless he had too many opponents at once. He caught Ser Brienne’s eyes and they nodded at one another, the bet still firmly in place. Jon drew Longclaw as the judge called for them to prepare. Just behind him on the edge of the ring stood Arya, Gendry, Robb, and Tormund all yelling encouraging words at him. The signal came and the melee began.

Jon defeated his first two opponents easily sending them both crashing to the ground and bleeding from at least one wound. When he looked up from the second, he watched as four men nodded to one another, obviously teaming up to take him out. No doubt each of them wanted the opportunity to beat the King. Jon drew Dawnfire as they advanced. A distracting roar went up in the crowd and he thought he had missed something before he realized they were simply cheering the arrival of the blade that had killed the Night King. He rolled his eyes and focused back on the four advancing men.

All five of them facing each other shifted their weight back and forth, their swords slowly swinging. Two of the men finally rushed him, one of them screaming as he came at him. He swung high while the other went low and Jon parried both of them. Jon quickly found a rhythm with the two of them. Their steps moved in and out of their personal space. Their swords tinged loudly every time they met. A third man saw his opening and stepped up and swung hard. Jon side stepped him, and the man went right by him into the short wall bordering the ring. Now he was surrounded as the third man was behind him. The rhythm picked up as all four of them fought. After a while the largest of the opponents lost energy and started to slow down. Jon saw his opening. He took a blow from the back onto his armor, but he drew blood as he launched at the large man and nicked him on the arm. There was no rest for him as the last man stepped into the spot. Jon was slightly nervous as the man came in with fresh legs and arms. Jon reached down on the next step in the rhythm and hit one of his opponents on the knee. The man crashed to the ground and on the next point in the rhythm he swung down to nick him on the arm just to be sure.

That left Jon facing two opponents. He swung both swords trying to relieve the ache that was settling in his shoulders. Surprisingly as he looked behind his opponents, he could see that Brienne had been defeated. She stood sulking on the other side of the barrier, a small cut on her cheek visible. That left an arrogant Dornishman who he’d seen bragging early on in the melee. The man was smart and just sat back and watched the three of them, content to wait until they were done to meet the victor.

Jon focused back on the two men before him. He needed this over quickly because he could feel his muscles tiring. Jon was very well conditioned, but he had done at least double the amount of work of all of his opponents. He watched the two men coming toward him. They both launched into movement at the same time and Jon swung hard with his right hand and released his left. The man that was on his left fell to the ground when he didn’t meet the pressure of Dawnfire, and Jon caught the wrist of the man on the right. Longclaw slipped on the side of the man and drew blood under his arm. Jon released him quickly and turned to draw blood on the man trying to get back to his feet.

With all four of the men gone, Jon looked across the ring at his last opponent. The arrogant Dornishman turned to look at the crowd and raised his arms. Maybe he was expecting Jon to take a moment to recover or to pick up his second sword, but Jon only had one goal to take out the man. He heard Robb, Arya, and Tormund all voice the same thing his brain was screaming at him, “Go!” Jon took a deep breath and rushed the man. His opponent turned at the last second when the crowd started screaming and Jon could see his eyes widen in panic. It took three large steps forward and two strategic swings and his opponent had a new scar on his neck and Jon had victory.

Later that night Jon said surrounded by his family once again. Sansa had her head on Willas’s shoulder, and the man looked more relaxed than Jon had ever seen him. Arya and Gendry were watching carefully as Rhaeanna inspected her newborn cousin and Jon’s heart swelled as he thought about her with her future baby sibling. Daenerys was obviously thinking the same as she grabbed his hand and placed it against her stomach under the table. Robb sat on his other side with Jaeron between them. The little boy was listening intently as Robb recounted the sword melee from earlier in the day. Davos snorted from Dany’s other side when Robb described in detail the idiot motions of Jon’s final opponent.

Jon couldn’t have imagined a better life for himself. He and Dany sharing the responsibility of the world they had saved and were rebuilding, living and loving together. His children, happy and healthy, his siblings all safe with fulfilling lives. He would always mourn those they had lost. His parents, Ned, Rickon, and Bran. But while they had lost, they had also gained. The Dothraki and Unsullied that they counted as friends if not family. The Free Folk who still called him “crow”. Davos who had taken the role as advisor and mentor. He looked around at his pack, his family, and was so grateful that he was a dragon and a wolf, that his parents had met at this very place. He thought back to Ned’s words regarding their family. The pack is stronger together and when they stay together, the pack survives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be back! There's another full length fic in the works that will be from more POVs than just Jon and Dany. It will be a modern AU with romance, drama, and a HEA. It may be a few months before I get to posting though, so stay tuned!


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